


I love you beyond the brink of madness.

by RedStarFiction



Series: Time Moves To A Different Rhythm. [1]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:57:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Spoilers*<br/>A canon divergence - Claire take Bree back to 18th Century during Jamie's time a Helwater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I love you beyond the brink of madness.

Claire gulped the sweet air of the highlands into her lungs, forcing it past the bitter taste of bile that crept up her throat. As she gripped Brianna’s small hand in hers and checked once again that the little girl could hear the stones, it dawned on her afresh just how selfish, dangerous and probably stupid what she was about to do was.  
Claire had no idea if children could make the crossing. She had not allowed herself to think about the possibility of losing Bree; if she allowed that thought to creep in she wouldn’t be able to go through with it.  
In the event of her own death however, she had been slightly more prepared and drilled it into Bree that she was not to mention the stones, that red-coat soldiers were not to be trusted under any circumstances and that she should approach local people and ask for safe passage to Mrs Janet Murray of Lallybroch.  
Claire knew highlanders and although Bree’s accent was strange, she looked enough like one of them and was young enough to be considered harmless and guaranteed some degree of help and a welcome at almost any door.  
All the same, the thought of nine year old Bree wandering the highlands alone made Claire’s legs weak and she gripped her daughter’s hand a bit tighter. Claire was wearing a modest but warm woollen dress that would not stand out in eighteenth century Scotland, the weight and feel of it familiar even after all the years that had gone by. Bree had turned her nose up at the idea of a dress and so Claire had purchased her breeks and a shirt which Brianna had found more suitable, along with a thick woollen coat and sturdy boots. In some ways Claire was relieved that Brianna’s gender was concealed, if they should be separated ….  
“Mama?”  
Bree was looking up at her, bright blue eyes wide with fear, no doubt picking up on Claire’s own misgivings. Claire took a deep breath and nodded to herself.  
“You remember what to do if I am not there when we go through?”  
“Yes.”  
Bree nodded but her bottom lip quivered  
“Bree, I love you so much sweetheart. I truly love you.”  
“I love you too Mama.”  
Bree answered and Claire felt her heart clench.  
If something happened to Brianna, Claire’s own feelings would be the least of the damage. Jamie would never forgive her. He had been willing to give his life to see them both safe, to see their child safe and she was about to risk the very meaning of his sacrifice.  
And yet even as Claire knew that what she was doing was beyond reckless she could not truly contemplate doing anything else. For nearly ten years she had forced herself to get out of bed when she didn’t want to and forced herself to eat when she would rather have starved. She had resigned herself to the ache in her heart that nothing could heal. She had accepted it and done her best to build a life without Jamie in it.  
But that was before Frank had asked her to help move some boxes and before she had seen the letter on top of one from an English lady, Mrs Dunsany, to a Lord John Grey, detailing the improved health of a Scottish groom Alexander Mackenzie. It was before Claire’s disbelieving eyes had taken in Mrs Dunsany’s joke about even the grooms red hair seeming more vibrant.  
After that, everything changed.  
It was not proof but it was hope. Hope that Jamie was still alive, hope that Claire could get back to him and for the first time in nearly a decade Claire felt something begin to push through her grief.  
Now, once again stood on the hill where her life had changed forever, Claire closed her eyes and as he had so many times, Jamie materialised before her. She felt the tug of longing moving her forward. The memory of his voice and his touch coaxing her on and soothing her fears even as she felt her body begin to tremble. If this was madness, so be it.  
Looking down at Bree, Claire steeled her will to the task at hand, focussing all of her thoughts on Jamie and Bree.  
“On three you press your hand to the stone with me, okay? One … Two … THREE!”  
The screaming stones enveloped them and before Claire’s skin burst into a thousand tiny flames she heard Brianna cry out to her.  
*  
“Mama!”  
Bree was shaking her, voice frantic and sobs escaping between her ragged breaths.  
Claire opened her eyes, momentarily blinded by the daylight and unsure of where she was or who she was.  
She blinked and like flipping on a switch everything flooded back. The stones, Jamie, Brianna … BRIANNA!  
Claire sat bolt upright and seized Bree, her medical training snapping her back to reality.  
“Bree, are you alright? Can you see? Can you hear? Does anything hurt?”  
“I’m fine, but Mama ...”  
Bree pitched into her mother’s arms completely overwhelmed.  
“I thought you were dead.”  
She wailed, burying her face in Claire’s neck.  
“Well, I’m not and that is a very good start.”  
Claire smiled, soothing her with gentle hushing noises and stroking her hair over and over until finally the girl sat up, wiping her nose on her sleeve.  
“What was that thing Mama?”  
Claire took a steadying breath and began to explain a very watered down version of events suitable for a nine year old girl. Bree’s mouth hung open in shock and disbelief.  
“I have two fathers?”  
“Yes. And we have come to find your first father, your real father.”  
“And he is a lord?”  
“A laird. Which is a sort of lord.”  
“And we’re time travellers?”  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. So he’s a laird. Does he live in a castle?”  
“He lives in a grand house. Or he used to. I don’t know about now. He was taken prisoner after a great battle.”  
Bree’s eyes lit up at that.  
“And we’re here to rescue him?”  
Claire smiled slightly  
“Yes, I suppose we are.”  
“Is Daddy coming?”  
“No darling, this is something you and I have to do alone.”  
Bree wrapped her arms around her knees and nodded to herself.  
“Bree, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this before.”  
Brianna shrugged.  
“Does Daddy know? About my other father?”  
“He does.”  
Claire answered shortly, she couldn’t think about Frank, not yet. She had left the letter on her pillow, if Brianna had not been able to hear the stones and it had not been possible to leave, there would have been enough time to retrieve it. She did not know whether Frank would have read it by now or not. Guilt washed over her as she thought about his heartbreak over losing Brianna; but the truth of the matter, the truth which lay at her absolute core, was that Claire did not care enough about Frank’s feelings to alter her path to Jamie, and so she pushed the thoughts away.  
“Where will we find Jamie?”  
“I’m not sure, but I know where to start.”  
Brianna stood up and with the surprising resilience to an altered reality that only small children seem to have, dusted her hands off on her breeks.  
“Okay Mama. Let’s go.”  
*


	2. Trudging forward into the past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Bree make their way toward Lallybroch.

Claire and Bree were received with hospitality at the first homestead they came to just before night fall, just as Claire had hoped they would be. The man who greeted them at the door had been initially wary of Claire but his doubts had been partially overcome by her story about being separated from her husband, Bree’s father, who had returned from France before the rising to fight.  
Brianna, willing to play her part, had removed her cap from her head, shaking her fiery, distinctly Celtic hair loose to corroborate her mother’s story, whilst staring up at him with large, hopeful eyes.  
Claire recognised the move as one Bree had carefully perfected for her classes production of ‘Oliver Twist’ the year before, when Bree had played Orphan #4.   
After a tense pause whilst the man spoke to his wife, they had been offered a bed for the night which Claire gratefully accepted. It had only been a short walk from the stones but it was enough for one day. Both of them were exhausted and in dire need of rest.  
The man of the house had shown them to a small room just off of the parlour with a single cot in it and his wife offered them a small wash basin and bread, cheese and apples. It was simple fare but exactly what they needed and Claire thanked him profusely.  
When they were alone Claire turned to her daughter and smiled  
“Where on earth did you learn to be so wily?”  
She whispered, pulling Bree into a hug. Bree shrugged nonchalantly, but a small, proud smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and the tips of her ears glowed pink.  
*  
They woke early and Claire left a couple of coins on the bed by way of payment before leaving the house, pushing a sleepy Bree ahead of her and pocketing a small loaf of bread, block of cheese and the rest of the apples on the way out. She would have felt better about picking apples directly from the tree outside but she didn’t want to risk being spotted and asked more questions.  
The less time they spend talking to people, the less chance there was of things getting complicated.  
Brianna was cranky in the morning as always, a trait she got from Claire herself, and plodded along silently until Claire told her they could stop for breakfast.   
“Oh good, more bread!”  
She huffed, tearing a thick chunk off with her teeth before shoving the loaf back at Claire.   
“You’ll be grateful for it in a couple of hours.”  
Claire smiled and chose to ignore the scowl Brianna gave her. As the food settled though, Brianna’s mood improved and she bombarded Claire with questions about her new found family and the father she had never met.  
Speaking about Jamie after so many years of silence was intoxicating and Claire told Bree as much as she could remember. As she spoke, Claire felt her heart soar with hope and joy and she repeated the mantra she had used to get them this far to herself with a new found sense of purpose:  
“We’re on our way Jamie.”  
*  
Claire had originally estimated that Lallybroch would be a four day walk from Craigh na Dun, but as they finished their third day of walking it was looking set to be closer to five days. She had not anticipated the amount of rest stops Bree would need and Claire had to admit that her own legs were exhausted. She had carried Brianna on her back for the last couple of miles but as night fell she stopped looking for smoke rising from chimneys and began looking for shelter.   
“Bree, we’re going to camp here for the night.”  
Claire smiled gamely at her daughter as she set her down and stretched her back out.   
“In the woods?”  
“Yes darling. We’ll have fun!”  
Bree yawned and looked around her uncertainly  
“Just for tonight though. Right, Mama?”  
“I hope so, but we’ll have to see.”  
Bree kicked absent-mindedly at a shrub and frowned.  
“We’ll be at Lallybroch soon right?”  
“We will.”  
Claire nodded, kissing Brianna’s forehead and producing the last of the apples for her to eat.  
Bree picked at it absently for a moment.  
“Is my father going to be at Lallybroch?”  
“I don’t know. I hope so but the people there will know where to find him if he isn’t.”  
“And they’re my family too?”  
“That’s right.”  
Claire nodded absently as she began to gather sticks for a fire.  
“And I have cousins?”  
“Yes, at least two, probably more by now.”  
“Wee Jamie and Margaret?”  
“Yes.”  
“And Margaret is three years older than me?”  
Claire took a deep breath through her nose as she picked her way around the little clearing she had chosen looking for dry kindling and edible berries. They had had this conversation many times over the last couple of days and she knew where it was heading.  
“That’s right. If we have come back through in line with the future she should be twelve by now.”  
“But are we EXACTLY two hundred years from the future?”  
Brianna asked and Claire felt her patience slipping  
“Bree, I don’t know. I’ve told you I don’t know.”  
“Then why haven’t we asked anyone?”  
Bree cried, exasperated by her mother’s feeble answer.  
“Because sane people that you invite into your home generally already know what year they’re in!”  
Claire snapped and pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t that Brianna was being unreasonable, the poor thing just wanted to know what year she was in! Honestly though, until they reached Lallybroch and news of Jamie, Claire almost didn’t want to know.   
She knew they must be close to the right time as the woman they stayed with the night before had told them that her twins were born on the eve of Culloden and Claire had estimated that the boys looked to be perhaps eleven, but they looked malnourished too so perhaps they were in their teens?   
Claire took a deep breath and held out a clutch of blackberries for Brianna.  
“I promise I’ll think of something tomorrow OK?”  
*  
That night Claire lay beside Brianna, unwilling to let her be away from her side in the wood for longer than necessary, one arm wrapped protectively around her middle, her chin resting on Bree’s head.   
Claire had been surprised by how easily Bree adapted to life on the road. Never a prissy child, Bree had still enjoyed all of the comforts of modern life and as Frank was not one for camping, they had tended to stay in hotels rather than roughing it when they went on holidays.   
All the same, after her initial misgivings, Bree hadn’t seemed at all fazed and she had helped Claire prepare a campfire and watched her mother skin a rabbit without so much as a flinch.   
Bree had been more practical, helpful, cunning when she needed to be and so very brave in the face of such great change than Claire had ever dreamed such a young child could be.  
The truth that Claire had faced over the last couple of days was that Brianna was more like Jamie than Claire had ever allowed herself to realise.   
She thought that she had always embraced the likeness of Bree and her father, but now Claire realised that to a certain extent she had closed herself off to those similarities which extended beyond looks. It had been too painful to think of Jamie in all the subtle traits that could be explained away as something else. But now … now she saw them for what they were and knew that Jamie would see them too and her heart felt like it would burst with joy.   
Claire watched the embers of the fire glowing and felt tears welling up in her eyes.  
“Get a grip Beauchamp!”  
She scolded herself quietly and blinked to try and ward them off but despite her efforts the tears began to slide down her cheeks and she gently shrugged them away on her sleeve, careful not to wake Bree.  
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not hear the men approaching until a twig snapped near-by and two pairs of boots stepped into the fire-light.


	3. A friend in need.

Claire was on her feet in moments; Brianna, still half asleep, thrust behind her and dirk drawn. The men wore scarves across their faces and in the dying light of the fire Claire could only see the dark hollows of their eyes.  
“Stay back!”  
She barked, her knuckles going white around the hilt of the knife.  
“We dinna mean ye any harm Mistress, ye or ye bairn.”  
One man said and moved back into the shadows but his companion held up his hand.  
“Wait a moment…”  
The second man was peering at Claire, she could feel rather than see his eyes on her and she stared back with all the defiance she could muster.  
“Leave them be man. Come!”  
“Wait … I …”  
“Do what ye want, I’m goin’ on.”  
His voice was fading as he walked away, leaving his companion alone in the clearing.  
“Leave us alone.”  
Claire commanded, the blade was shaking in her grip but she kept it levelled at the man’s chest. It had been many years but Claire remembered her training at the hands of Jamie and the Mackenzie men and would do whatever it took to ensure Bree’s safety. Aim for the kidneys...  
“Mama…”  
Brianna’s voice quivered but Claire didn’t dare take her eyes off of the men in front of her  
“It’s alright Bree,”  
She said, forcing as much certainty into her voice as she could. Claire could feel her heart pounding but forced her rising fear away. The second man showed no signs of moving and Claire took a tentative step backwards, nudging Brianna back too. Bree peered around her mother’s skirts and the man who had not disappeared into the woods made a strangled noise at the sight of her and stepped forward, a string of whispered prayers, in what Claire thought was French, falling from his lips as his eyes locked on Bree’s.  
Claire followed his line of vision and hastily blocked Brianna from his view.  
“Don’t you dare look at her! You look at me!”  
She growled. The way he had stared at her child sent a shudder up Claire’s spine and she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.  
“Bree?”  
Claire breathed the word, shaking her daughters shoulder to get her attention.  
The light from the fire struck the hook that protruded from his sleeve where his hand should have been and Claire could see he was trembling from head to toe, seemingly struck dumb. It was the one advantage Claire had and it wouldn't last forever. She made up her mind.  
“Bree … RUN!”  
Claire bellowed and lunged forward punching him hard in the chest with the hilt of the dirk, knocking him backwards, before whirling and charging toward Brianna who was stood, frozen.  
“RUN BREE!”  
Claire roared, dragging her daughter after her until Bree’s body could catch up with her mind.  
“Wait!”  
Claire could hear the bastard crashing after them through the bracken and fear spurred her on even as brambles tore at her skirts and branches whipped across her face.  
“MILADY! WAIT!”  
Claire skidded to a halt in shock, causing Brianna to run into the back of her and topple them both. The man burst through the bracken behind them and dropped to his knees beside Claire, impatiently tugging the scarf away from his face. Claire took in his dark eyes, the aristocratic slant of his cheeks and the long Gallic nose.  
“Fergus?”  
“Mon Dieu! It’s really you, Milady?”  
“Fergus! My God! Let me look at you!”  
Claire reached out and tentatively cupped his cheek. He had grown into a handsome young man but there were still traces of the little boy she had known and his smile was as brilliant as ever.  
“You grew into your teeth!”  
Claire choked as he beamed at her and then seized him in a rib crushing hug as her eyes blurred with tears.  
“Oui! Milady, you have not aged a day! I thought for sure I was seeing things and then …”  
Fergus pulled back from Claire, tears shining in his own eyes as he looked over at Brianna who had moved to stand a little way off, watching them both with fascination.  
“Your child is the very image of Milord. Can it be...?”  
Claire beckoned to Brianna  
“She is. Brianna, this is Fergus. The boy your father and I brought home from Paris.”  
Brianna stepped forward ducking her head, suddenly shy before the first person from her mother's tale she had actually met.  
“Pleased to meet you.”  
She mumbled. Fergus stood and bowed low, sweeping his cap off and taking Brianna’s hand in his. He pressed a light kiss to her knuckle.  
“The honour is mine entirely, Petite Rouge. I owe my life to your Mama and Papa.”  
Bree looked at Claire and did her best to suppress a grin.  
“Um… Thank you.”  
She nodded, offering Fergus a slightly awkward bow in return.  
“What happened to your hand?”  
“Bree!”  
Claire grimaced but Fergus waved her protest off.  
“A mishap that happened long ago, Petite.”  
“Some mishap!”  
“Brianna!”  
Claire shot her daughter a look and Bree returned it with interest making Fergus laugh.  
“She has the look of Milord but no doubting who her mother is Milady!”  
“True.”  
Claire smiled and stood up.  
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you Fergus; Brianna and I have only recently returned to Scotland and we were making our way to Lallybroch. To Jamie.”  
Claire couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice as she said her husband’s name. Fergus’ brow creased and Claire felt the breath catch in her throat.  
“You don’t know?”  
“Know what? Where’s Jamie?”  
Claire gripped Fergus’ hand hard between her own, she could feel hysteria bubbling in her gut and feared that she would scream if he didn’t answer her immediately.  
“Please Fergus!”  
“Milord is in England. He was paroled there six years ago.”  
Fergus paused and looked at Claire carefully.  
“As I am sure you are aware Miladay, it is now 16th March 1761.”  
There was no judgement in his voice and Claire squeezed his fingers gratefully.  
“Yes, of course. Thank you but since Culloden I haven't seen Jamie…”  
Claire bit her lip, realising her mistake. Culloden was sixteen years ago. Brianna was clearly a deal younger than sixteen or even fifteen. The anomaly was not lost on Fergus and Claire could see him furiously thinking.  
“Except for when you visited Milord, during his years in the cave … when I brought you to him. But he sent you away … to relatives in France … for your protection.”  
Fergus spoke slowly, never breaking eye-contact with Claire.  
“Perhaps that is the last time Milady saw him?”  
Claire’s shoulders sagged with relief and she nodded mutely.  
“Yes. Of course.”  
Claire murmured and Fergus nodded gamely.  
“That would have been eleven …?”  
“Ten years ago.”  
Claire finished and Fergus nodded again.  
“Oui. Ten years ago. I remember it well.”  
“Thank you Fergus.”  
The words felt small and inadequate but they were all Claire could manage. Fergus turned his attention back to Brianna and dropped to a squat before her.  
“Climb up, Petite. My friend Rabbie and I have horses a little way away and I am sure you have walked enough for one day.”  
Brianna gratefully shinned up Fergus’ back, locking her arms about his neck. With Brianna safely up on his back, Fergus turned to Claire and held out his hand.  
“Come Milady, it is time you came home. I will explain all that I can on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, so this is where things are going to get a little muddled. For reasons that will become apparent later I have jumped Claire and Bree a little further into the past than I had originally thought to do which means that there will be some jigging of dates I expect!  
> Please bear with me and I hope you enjoy the story and where I eventually go with it.  
> Thanks for reading as always.  
> xx


	4. Return to Lallybroch. Pt.1 - Brianna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focussed mainly on Bree and her reception to Lallybroch. Thank you for reading :) xx

Bree had done her best to stick with Fergus when they arrived, but he had needed to go to the stables to see to the horses and when she had tried to follow, he had stopped her with his good hand on her shoulder and told her that she should go and meet her aunty.  
Bree had scowled at that and shaken her head. She could hear her mother and the two adults who had come out to greet them talking and the tones were not particularly friendly. Besides, she felt a kinship with Fergus which she was quite happy basking in but before she could protest, her mother had called her and she’d had no choice but to trudge over to her side and suffer the introductions.  
“Brianna, this is your Aunt Jenny.”  
Claire had smiled but her lips were too tight and Bree could see how nervous she was. She looked up at her aunt, who was watching her the way her friends dog watched the vacuum cleaner: a mixture of dread and incredulity. Bree stuck her chin out defiantly and let her features arrange themselves in the special way they did, so that no one would be able to read her thoughts.  
Jenny’s hand flew to her mouth and she nodded mutely.  
“Ah Dhia. So it’s true then.”  
Was all she said, swallowing a couple of times, her throat bobbing as if she might be sick.  
“Brianna.”  
Jenny rolled the name around her mouth and looked at Claire as she said it. Claire felt a blush creep into her face at the intensity of Jenny’s gaze but could not read her face at all. As if making up her mind about something Jenny nodded to herself and dropped into a crouch before Brianna.  
“Ye are most welcome here Brianna, I am sorry I ha’ no met ye before now but I look forward to gettin’ to know all about ye.”  
She held out her hand and Bree took it, gripping hard to show she was not afraid. She was surprised when Jenny returned the grip and grinned at her.  
“Aye, ye’ve the Fraser way of makin’ yeself understood wi’out sayin’ too much.”  
Brianna grinned shyly back. Occasionally her daddy would remark that she had her Mama’s scowl or some silly thing but no one had ever compared the way she *was* to someone else before. It felt good.  
Jenny looked over her shoulder at a man with a wooden leg and nodded towards him.  
“This is ye Uncle Ian; my husband and ye Da’s best friend.”  
“My Da?”  
“Aye, ye father.”  
“Jamie.”  
Brianna clarified and Jenny gave her a queer look but nodded.  
“Aye, Jamie.”  
Bree saw Jenny’s eyes flick towards her mother, flashing steel. Before she could say anything else, Ian stepped forward and held his hand out to Brianna.  
“A pleasure to meet ye lass. Ye’ll be hungry from the journey no?”  
Brianna shook his hand and nodded.  
“Yes Sir.”  
Ian smiled warmly at her and placed his other hand over the top of hers. Bree noticed that his smile reached all the way to his eyes and felt an instant liking towards him.  
“Ye can call me Uncle if ye like, we dinna worry so much about formality in this house.”  
“Thank you Uncle Ian … I am quite hungry.”  
Bree’s stomach growled and she flushed but Ian smiled wider at her.  
“Of course, ye must come in and we’ll get ye set up wi’ some lunch and ye can meet ye cousins, ye have a few!”  
Bree nodded happily  
“Oh I know! Mama said there would be more than a couple by now!”  
“Bree!”  
Claire hissed but Ian only laughed and straightened, patting Bree’s head.  
“Ye mother always had a canny knack for knowing things.”  
He had not said anything to Claire but now he turned towards her and held out his hands. Claire allowed him to take her hands and smiled gamely at him  
“Hello Ian.”  
“Hello Claire. It’s been a long time.”  
The reproach in his voice was milder than Jenny’s but somehow cut her deeper and Claire’s throat constricted slightly as she clutched his fingers.  
“I know. I’m sorry. We …”  
“Later.”  
Ian cut off her explanation and gently removed his hands from hers.  
“Ye and Brianna need to eat and rest. Don’t they Jenny?”  
Claire saw the look that passed between them and held her breath. It had never occurred to her that Jenny might turn her away from Lallybroch. They had been so close and loved each other as sisters and Claire had not thought that the years would have affected that. But as she took in the lines around Jenny’s mouth and the grey streaks in her otherwise jet black hair, Claire realised how naïve she had been. Whilst she took only fond memories of her time with the Fraser/Murray family, her disappearance during Jamie’s time of need must have looked weak at best and downright calculated at worst. She hoped that Jamie would have told Jenny that he made her leave but maybe he hadn’t. Perhaps they had never spoken of it.  
“Aye, of course. Come inside both of ye.”  
Jenny wrapped an arm around Brianna’s shoulders and led the girl forward to the house, leaving Claire to follow behind with Ian.  
“Dinna fash Claire, we’ll talk later and it will all smooth out.”  
Ian murmured. Claire smiled slightly and nodded.  
“I hope so.”  
*  
Brianna had never known a house like the one at Lallybroch. It wasn’t just the rambling old house itself it was the people in it. From the moment she stepped through the door she had been enveloped in embraces and bustled back and forth. Her cousins weren’t shy of her at all! Bree had been raised by her daddy to treat new-comers gently and with courtesy but apparently her first father’s family didn’t quite do things the same.  
Once she had eaten and been introduced to everyone and had a tour of the house, Jenny had declared that she would draw her a bath and find some more suitable clothes for her to wear. Bree had been quite glad of the bath, although slightly unsettled but the openness of it in the kitchen.  
“Can I close the door?”  
“No, I’ve work to do but ye need no fear the lads seein’ ye. They ken better than to come in when a lady is doin’ her ablutions.”  
Bree knew that Jenny was making fun of her but something about the way she did it made it feel nice rather than mean, like she was just talking to one of her kids rather than a stranger she just met.  
All the same Bree waited for Jenny to go out and fetch a clean wash cloth before she hastily got undressed and into the steaming tub.  
The kitchen was wonderfully warm, Claire having just finished her own bath – with the door shut! Bree thought irritably – and after days on the road, the warm water on her skin felt great.  
“MAM! Can I …”  
Bree squeaked and ducked low in the big copper tub as the youngest Murray cousin stuck his head round the door.  
“Go away!”  
Bree snapped, embarrassment getting the better of her temper. Wee Ian jumped as if caught in some mischief and peered at her.  
“Oh! I’m sorry cousin, I didna ken ye were in here.”  
“Well I am!”  
Bree glared at him. Ian grinned at her.  
“Aye. But if ye ducked ye head a wee bit no one would ken. Ye hair is the same colour as the tub!”  
Brianna could feel herself blushing furiously and her temper beginning to fray but Ian seemed cheerfully oblivious to both.  
“Dinna fash, I used to bath wi’ my sisters so I ken what a wee lassie looks like.”  
“And I know what a little boy looks like. We’re even. Please go away now.”  
Bree said with as much dignity as she could muster.  
“‘Little’?! How old are ye?”  
“Nine. And a quarter.”  
“Weel I’m ten. And a quarter.”  
Ian said proudly.  
“Ian! Dinna disturb ye cousin!”  
Ian ducked out of sight behind the door and Jenny came in with two dresses draped over her arm and a fresh pitcher of water.  
“Sorry about him, friendly as a puppy and wi’ about as much sense as one too.”  
Jenny winked at Bree, handing her a wash cloth.  
“MAM!”  
Ian scowled at her.  
“Weel sometimes I think it’s true!”  
Jenny retorted and nudged the door shut in her indignant off-spring’s face.  
“I thought you said the boys wouldn’t come in.”  
Brianna huffed  
“He’s out now, no harm done.”  
“Is he always so rude?”  
Jenny took in the angry flush of Bree’s cheeks and smiled to herself.  
“No, not normally. Shall I have him beaten and sold to gypsies for ye?”  
Brianna’s mouth twitched in what could have been a smile and Jenny laughed.  
“Good. Now Brianna, which do ye prefer? I think the blue but the green may suit ye as well.”  
Jenny held up the dresses for inspection  
“Thank you Aunt Jenny but I prefer pants.”  
“Pants?”  
“Um … britches.”  
Bree corrected and went back to scrubbing her arms with the cloth. Jenny snorted  
“Weel ye canna go around dressed as a lad. It isna proper.”  
“Uncle Ian said you don’t go for formality here.”  
“Being properly dressed isn’t formal, it’s decent.”  
Jenny quirked an eyebrow at her niece but Brianna didn’t flinch.  
“I still prefer britches.”  
She said and Jenny recognised the stubborn tone of her voice only too well.  
“Maybe so, but ye’ll wear a dress as a wee lass ought to.”  
The look Brianna gave her took Jenny back nearly thirty years to the first time she had to get Jamie ready for school when he didn’t want to go and sent goose-bumps up her arms.  
“Aye, stubborn as ye father ye may be a leannan, but I’m more so. I promise ye that.”  
Jenny folded her arms and waited. Two sets of slanted, blue eyes met and in that moment blood recognised blood and Jenny felt the first tug of very genuine love for her brother’s daughter.  
She crouched beside the tub and moved a strand of red hair back from Bree’s face.  
“I dinna ken ye weel yet Brianna, but I can tell ye are no’ from this place and this is all verra strange to ye. I promise I will do whatever I can to help ye settle in. We’re ye family and though ye havena met ye father yet, when ye do he will welcome ye wi’ open arms.”  
Jenny smiled and folded her arms in her lap.  
“But the first thing ye are goin’ to have to get used to is wearin’ a dress.”  
Brianna sighed.  
“Alright. The blue one.”  
*


	5. Into the Sun

“Spare me Fergus!”  
Jenny snapped, her eyes glinting dangerously as the colour drained from her face – her own warning sign that she was on the brink of explosion.  
“But I swear …”  
“ENOUGH!”  
Jenny slammed her hand down on the arm of the chair, making everyone except Ian jump.   
“Seas mi dubh…”  
He murmured reaching over to cover her clenched fist with his hand.  
“No Ian! I willna be lied to in my own house!”  
Jenny turned her gaze to Claire and stared at her with all the intensity she could muster. Claire felt as if layers of half-truths and deceptions were being stripped away from her, as if Jenny was looking straight through and seeing the carefully guarded secret at her core.   
“Ye did not meet wi’ my brother in that cave, Claire. I ken it the same way I ken the sky is blue.”  
Claire said nothing, knowing from experience how carefully to tread around a Fraser this close to temper.  
“I also ken that Brianna is my brother’s child. It’s no’ just the look of her, it’s the way she is. That girl is a Fraser of Lallybroch and there is no mistaking it.”  
Jenny took a breath and leant forward, the firelight casting long shadows across her face as she continued to stare at Claire.  
“I loved ye once Claire, I called ye my sister and was proud o’ it.”  
“I loved you too Jenny. Truly.”  
Claire reached forward and let her hand hang in the air as Jenny made no move to accept it, eventually folding it back into her lap.  
“Then speak the truth to me. Ye havena seen my brother since Culloden, have ye?”  
Claire swallowed and held Jenny’s look. She had been half mad with fear and shock after the witch trial when she told Jamie who and what she was. She had been wracked with grief and sorrow when she told Frank and on both occasions her truth had fallen from her lips almost without her will. It had needed to be said and she had said it without thinking it through for on those occasions the consequences had been irrelevant to her during the heat of the moment. Now though in the warmth and comfort of Lallybroch, with Brianna asleep upstairs, Claire found her voice caught in her throat.  
“Answer me Claire. If ye truly held any affection in ye heart for me or Jamie…”  
The mention of Jamie’s name was like a catalyst to her.  
“I love Jamie with everything I am. I did then and I do now”  
Claire croaked, her fingers gripping the edges of her chair until her knuckles protruded starkly against her skin.  
“He is not just your brother, he is my husband. I told you that Brianna was his child and it is the truth, I have not seen Jamie since Culloden, that is the truth too Jenny.”  
Claire paused catching her breath.  
“Culloden was sixteen years ago and Brianna is nine. Jamie sent me away before the battle to save her even though I wanted to fight by his side on that field and die with him if it came to it.”  
Her voice shook but now that she had confirmed some of her story she felt calmer, more sure of herself.   
*Let the chips fall where they may.*  
She thought and reached for the glass of whiskey Ian had placed beside her.  
“Ye are a witch then? Or an Auld One?”  
Jenny seemed calmer too, her worst suspicions now confirmed she was able to let go of logic for a moment and deal with what was in front of her.  
“I am not a witch. I do not practice magic. I do not know if I am an Auld One or not but I do not think I am.”  
Claire shrugged and noticed Fergus discreetly cross himself. Ian had been silent but now he leant forward and looked at Claire carefully  
“Does Jamie ken? What ye are or are not, I mean.”  
“Yes. I told him and he believed me.”  
Claire nodded and saw a breath of relief leave Ian  
“Good. Weel, if he didna mind I dinna see what business it is of ours.”  
He smiled slightly but his hand trembled as he raised his own glass to his lips.  
“I have two questions for ye Claire,”  
Jenny held up two fingers and Claire smiled, pragmatism in the most mild form was what kept Jenny grounded, gave her some control of what was clearly a bizarre situation.  
“Why did ye come back now?”  
“I found out that Jamie survived Culloden, before then I thought … well. He meant to die on that field Jenny, he intended to fight and die with his men.”  
Jenny nodded, she knew that was true.   
“Alright, and do ye mean any harm to my family?”  
“Harm?”  
“Aye. Harm. I still hold kindly feelin’ toward ye Claire and Brianna is my blood, I wouldna see ye turned away but if ye mean ill toward us, I should sooner ken about it now.”  
“No. I mean no harm. I am here because I want to reunite with my husband, let him meet and help raise his daughter and have a family again. I want nothing more than that.”  
Her voice was barely above a whisper but seemed loud in the silence that followed.  
*  
Over the next couple of days it was decided that Fergus and Claire would ride to Helwater. Brianna would remain at Lallybroch as her obvious resemblance to Jamie would hinder any chance of convincing the Dunsany’s to loan their groom to Claire to assist with her horses.  
The finer points of the plan would have to be ironed out on the road but the crux of it was to let Jamie know Claire was back and give him a chance to escape with her if he thought it was possible.  
Claire had suggested some sort of coded letter but as Jenny pointed out, if Jamie thought there was a chance of seeing Claire again he was liable to take it and damn the consequences.  
“If he doesna faint at the sight of ye, this will be the better way.”  
Jenny shrugged and then smiled slightly  
“Although if he does faint ye could tend to him wi’ ye healing knowledge, I suppose.”  
Claire agreed, just knowing what she herself had done for the chance of seeing Jamie again left no doubt that a letter was a bad idea.  
They set off toward Helwater a week after she and Brianna first arrived at Lallybroch, Bree and Claire waving to each other until they were out of sight. As soon as they rounded the bend in the road Claire let out the breath she had been holding. She had never been away from Bree for more than a couple of days before and this trip was likely to be two weeks or more, still it would be worth it if Jamie could come home.  
*It will be worth it just to set eyes on him*  
A sly little voice piped up in Claire’s head and she felt a slight blush creep into her face. It was true, completely true. Claire had been the best mother she could to Brianna and she loved her daughter un-reservedly and with every fibre of her being, but for all that she had risked both of their lives for a chance to see Jamie again; it was not knowledge that weighed lightly upon her. Claire had proven that though she would walk through fire for Brianna but she would embrace the flames for Jamie.   
“Petite Rouge will be fine Milady.”  
Fergus smiled, drawing his horse alongside Claire’s own mare.   
“I know, I was just thinking about everything I have done to get here. Everything I have put Bree through…”  
“Ah,”  
Fergus scratched his chin and then smoothed his eyebrows with a fingertip, a little mannerism Claire found peculiar in a boy raised first in a brothel and then a farm. She wondered whether it was learned or perhaps more likely inherited …  
“Milady, you must of course tell me if I speak to freely but I think perhaps you have … ah … more in your heart for Milord than is usual in a marriage, non? He is not just your husband; he is your àmi soeul. The other half of you, and one does not choose such a thing, rather they are chosen.”  
Claire stared at Fergus for a moment then tentatively reached across the gap between them and clasped the slender wrist above the hilt of his hook.  
“You have grown into a wonderful man Fergus. Thank you.”  
“I had a good teacher, as does Petit Rouge.”  
He grinned and spurred the horse forward.  
*  
The plan they threshed out over the duration of the ride was flimsy at best but the closer they got to Helwater the harder it was to concentrate on anything except the thought of seeing Jamie.  
The idea was that Claire would walk to the house and claim that her horse had gone lame on the road. Fergus would wait with the horses and hopefully Jamie would be dispatched to tend to the beast whilst Claire was recovered with tea.   
Fergus would inform Jamie of everything and return with him to the house where Claire would ask to visit the stable and thank the man who helped her so.  
There were so many little things that could go wrong Claire stopped thinking about them all and focussed her thoughts on what she might say to Jamie.  
“Hello” felt so insignificant but what would be less so? She was so consumed with this sort that she almost steered her mare into Fergus’ gelding as he slowed.  
“I will wait here Milady.”  
He smiled and swung himself off of the horse to help Claire, which was fortunate as suddenly her legs felt like rubber. Claire began walking down the road towards the imposing gates, carefully tucking her hair and fastening a respectably large bonnet around her face.  
The path up to the door seemed almost absurdly long but eventually she reached the large oak door and stood before it gathering herself.   
*Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.*  
Every beat of her pulse echoed his name and Claire realised that she was about to be copiously and ungracefully sick. She made it round the side of the house, just, before doubling over and ridding her body of the hasty breakfast she and Fergus had eaten a little while earlier.  
“Jesus. H. Roosevelt Christ Beauchamp!”  
She scolded herself quietly, dabbing her lips with her handkerchief. She straightened and took a deep breath preparing to turn back to the house and try again. A man cleared his throat close behind her and Claire froze.  
“Excuse me, are ye alright Miss?”  
Claire’s senses thrummed at the sound of the soft Scottish voice that was dearer to her than her own heartbeat. Slowly she turned to face her husband and it was as brilliant as looking into the sun.  
“Hello Jamie.”  
She whispered.


	6. Time Toys With Us All

Jamie looked into Claire’s upturned face and a small, sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  
“Ah Sassenach, it’s you. I dinna recall the dress ye wear or I should ha’ ken it was ye sooner.”  
“Jamie …”  
Claire’s heart pounded against her chest and her hands slicked with sweat. He wasn’t excited to see her. He just looked tired.  
“Will ye come to me tonight then Sassenach?”  
“Tonight? But I’m here now…”  
Jamie looked away, his own throat bobbing with emotion and he raised his hands as if shielding a blow.  
“I ken tha’ mo nighean don. I ken that but I must tend to some things just now.”  
Jamie turned on his heel and began to walk away from her. After all this time that was all he could say to her? For a second Claire hovered between rage and despair, then the rage won out.  
“Damn you James Fraser! Don’t you dare walk away from me! If you don’t want me you can bloody well say it to me!”  
Claire roared; potential spectators could go to hell too! Looking around for a suitable missile and finding none, Claire stooped into the rose bed and picked up a clod of earth, hurling it at Jamie with all her might.  
It splattered up his back and Jamie whipped round, staring at her ashen faced.  
“Claire…?”  
His voice was a hoarse whisper and something in his face drained the fury from her completely.  
“Is it … Claire are ye really here?”  
“Yes! It’s me Jamie. I’m here!”  
Claire stepped forward, cutting the distance between them until they stood toe to toe. She reached out tentatively to him and saw him clench his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening as he closed his eyes.  
She laid her palm against the thick red stubble on his cheek and Jamie jerked as if she had slapped him. His eyes flew open and he caught her hand in his, almost crushing it with the force of his grip.  
“Ah Dhia! Ye’re real.”  
Claire wiggled her fingers tentatively but Jamie did not loosen his hold even slightly.  
“Yes, I…Oof!”  
The breath rushed out of Claire in one heavy exhalation as Jamie swept her up in a fierce embrace and crushed her to him. Claire wrapped her arms around Jamie’s neck and held on for all she was worth.  
Jamie whispered her name to himself over and over, it seemed to be all he could do and Claire became aware of his shoulders shaking beneath her arms and realised that he was weeping, followed swiftly by the realisation that she was too. She would never know how long they stood in the pattering rain, locked together by a simple act of love that spoke above all of the words she wished to say to him or any that he had for her, but at some point Jamie pulled back and took a shuddering breath,  
He cupped her face gently in his hands, looking deep into her eyes and smiled shakily  
“Claire, if ye’ll ha’ me, I need ye verra badly.”  
Jamie panted and Claire nodded; she could feel his need almost as pressing and just as urgent as her own. Without another word Jamie shifted his stance and lifted Claire fully into his arms and ran. She kept her arms clasped around his neck, face buried in his chest until he set her down outside a stable door. Taking her hand he led her in and closed the door behind them. One of the lads must have moved the beam they normally wedged across the door at night but Jamie was too preoccupied to search for it.  
“What if someone needs a horse?”  
“They can wait.”  
Jamie said gruffly and took his wife (Ah Dhia! His wife!) into his arms again and time stood still. They were shy at first, cautious of each other, mesmerised by the hundred little changes that had occurred to each of their bodies in the decade that had passed, paying homage to each new line, each new scar.  
But just as instinct guides a heart to beat and lungs to breathe, their bodies found each other’s rhythms and they were as one.  
Endearments choked out and sobbed between ragged breaths were mostly lost in the thick jumble of hair where their faces were buried but fragments slipped out, broken pieces of speech that reverberated within their consciousness.  
Afterwards as they lay in each other’s arms, Jamie cradled her to him and smiled at her, a smile as brilliant as the sun.  
“I can hardly believe ye’re here Sassenach. I never thought…”  
“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you, it must be quite a shock.”  
Claire smiled guiltily and brushed a strand of hay from his hair.  
Jamie laughed and pushed his forehead lightly against hers.  
“Aye, weel. I didna faint and I didna piss mysel’ – which I verra nearly did when I thought a ghost was throwin’ mud at me!”  
“A ghost?!”  
Claire laughed, tracing a finger down the length of his nose  
“I’ve seen ye so many times Sassenach. Like a waking dream. I thought this time was like that, ye ken?”  
Claire nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips which he began to return only to pull away again, his eyes frantic  
“Wait … Claire, the bairn? I should ha’ asked sooner …”  
“A girl, Brianna, she’s at Lallybroch. She’s healthy, safe and well.”  
Jamie exhaled slowly trying and failing to control his emotions  
“A girl? Another wee lassie?”  
“Yes. She looks just like you.”  
Claire’s voice wavered and she bit her lip hard. Jamie beamed at her and shook his head  
“I hope there is a fair amount of ye in her too Sassenach?”  
“I…”  
“MAC! MAAAC!”  
Jamie froze as a child’s shout’s reached them getting nearer and nearer.  
“You’re being summoned!”  
Claire smiled but Jamie didn’t return her grin this time. He hastily stood and buttoned his breeks and Claire smoothed her dress and stood, following his lead.  
“Sassenach, listen to me, there is something …”  
Jamie began as the door swung open.  
“MAC! There you are! Didn’t you hear … oh.”  
A little boy in the doorway stared up at Claire through slanted, blue eyes. His brows creased in a frown, fair eyebrows lowered. An expression Claire knew only too well, though it twisted her heart to see it on a child other than Brianna.  
“Who are you?”  
The boy asked and Claire’s heart leapt into her throat. Her gaze flicked between the child and her husband, his father.  
“My name is Claire, I am an old friend of … Mac’s.”  
“My name is William Clarence Henry George Ransom. I am the ninth earl of Ellesmere.”  
He nodded with practiced formality to Claire and then turned his attention to Jamie.  
“Are we going to feed the horses?”  
“In a little while.”  
“Now Mac!”  
The boy glared at Jamie and stamped one small foot.  
“It’s fine Ja…Mac. Go ahead.”  
Claire said, her voice shaking.  
“Claire…”  
Jamie looked like he was about to either weep again or lose his temper with some considerable degree of force but Claire didn’t care about which he chose to do in that moment. She needed time to gather her own wits. She knew it was probably unreasonable to think that after all these years he would not have had another woman, another child but the knowledge that he *had* burned her to the core.  
She tried to leave the stable but Jamie seized her arm and held her back  
“I will explain everythin’ to ye Claire but ye canna leave, not now.”  
“I can see quite clearly what the explanation amounts to…”  
“Mac, when can I …”  
“It is not as ye think; I swear it to ye Claire.”  
“You don’t have to swear anything. It’s been a long time and I have no right to any claim…”  
“Mac!  
“Infrinn! O’ course ye ha’ the right, I am your…”  
“MAC!”  
“NOT NOW WILLIAM!”  
Jamie roared, rounding on the little boy with such ferocity he actually jumped before bursting into tears. Jamie ran a hand tersely over his face and let go of Claire to pick the sobbing child up but his eyes never left hers.  
“My plan was to ask for your assistance. My one handed, French valet is waiting down the road with horses. But I can see that you do not have the time.”  
Claire spoke as curtly as she could, whilst fighting back tears. She thought of Brianna and her heart squeezed afresh.  
“I will gladly assist ye, but perhaps ye might wait for me to get his lordship back to the house?”  
Jamie eyed her sharply, emphasising the formality of his speech regarding William. He did not know and Jamie wished it that way.  
*  
Claire had resolved that she would not look back over her shoulder as she marched away from Jamie and his son. She told herself that she didn’t want to see more of them together than she had to and yet … she found herself turning to watch. Jamie’s head was bent low to William talking to him and the little boy had his arms firmly secured around Jamie’s neck.  
The rain was barely a drizzle now and she could make out the soft pink shell of Jamie’s ears against the bright red of his hair and the hard knot of her anger began to soften.  
Ten years was a long time, sixteen for Jamie , she reminded herself. William looked to be four or five and whatever the circumstances of his birth he clearly did not know that Jamie was his father and no one wanted him to find out, least of all Jamie himself.  
Claire couldn’t help but think about the boy’s mother and jealousy curled in her chest. Was she there now? Claire pictured Jamie discreetly handing their child over, a lingering look between them as he excused himself …  
Claire suddenly became aware of her nails digging viciously into the palms of her hands, her fists clenched tightly by her sides. Jamie was not long, within minutes he was striding back towards her but she had worked herself into such a fury she was not even relieved.  
“Did you get him back to his mother?”  
“Claire…”  
“Did you manage to fit in another quickie?”  
She hated herself for saying the words but couldn’t stop them tumbling from her mouth. Jamie drew a long breath through his nose but did not say anything.  
“Don’t you dare look at me like that.”  
“Sassenach, I dinna mean to argue wi’ ye. Ye ha’ a right to be upset, I am ye husband and I ha’ sired a child wi’ another woman. But I told ye it was not how ye think it was and if ye will let me explain wi’out insulting me further…”  
“Insulting you? Insulting you?!”  
“Aye insulting ye! I ha’ lain wi’ a woman twice in sixteen years Claire and ye ask me if I ha’ played ye false immediately after makin’ love to ye?”  
“Only twice? You poor thing! You made it count though didn’t you?”  
Claire spat and Jamie grabbed her arm, yanking her roughly round to face him.  
“Can ye say the same Claire? Ha’ ye lived as a nun all these years?”  
“No, damn it I have not. But I have only one child, YOUR child, and I brought her here to this place, this time for YOU and here you are with … with …”  
“A wee bastard son.”  
Jamie said flatly and Claire nodded tersely  
“And his good lady mother!”  
Jamie tipped Claire’s chin to force her to look at him and the pain in her eyes made him want to weep.  
“William’s mother died in child birth. We lay together just the once. I dinna expect ye to be happy about it Claire but I canna change it either.”  
The solid nature of his words finally cut through the fog of her shock and unhappiness and Claire nodded, drawing a deep, shuddering breath.  
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I have no right…”  
“It’s no’ about rights lass. I am yours as ye are mine and nothing changes that but we have a way to go and many things to explain yet to get back to where we were.”  
Jamie smiled slightly and kissed Claire gently on the brow.  
“And I want to hear it all but I fear we canna keep wee Fergus waiting much longer.”  
Claire had almost forgotten about Fergus in the heat of their quarrel but now she realised how long she had been and how frantic Fergus must be by now and gasped  
“Oh God! Poor Fergus!”  
She hitched up her skirt and began to run, Jamie following in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, this chapter was actually quite hard to write as there was a lot to pack in here but it's finally done and I hope you enjoyed it and I shall begin the next.


	7. Healing

The Dunsnay’s had agreed to Jamie accompanying Claire to an inn, which surprised her but then Jamie had been with them a while and they trusted him, especially since his daring rescue of their beloved grandson.   
As he caught up with Fergus, Jamie’s fingers never left Claire’s. They had been touching in some way the whole ride and once they reached the inn Jamie had only let go of her hand once, for propriety.  
She found herself staring at him, taking in the small bump on the bridge of his nose from an old break and the slight lines around his eyes, which she knew mirrored her own. The visible traces of time sat upon everyone, she knew that, and yet she hadn’t expected Jamie to have changed at all. In her mind, in her heart, he had always been above such things.

Fergus saw to the horses whilst Jamie and Claire headed up to the room. As soon as the door shut they let out identical sighs of relief.  
“I didna ken that my legs would have stood me much longer.”  
Jamie chuckled, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed and Claire nodded. She understood exactly what he meant. It had been a trying afternoon, joyful in many ways, but no less exhausting for it.  
There was a decanter of brandy on the side board and Claire poured two generous glasses, handing one to Jamie.   
“Cheers.”  
“Slante.”  
He raised his glass and viewed her across its rim, the intensity of his stare making Claire feel naked.  
“So, ye say that Brianna is nine years old here?”  
“Yes, we came through the stones when you should have just been moved to Helwater, but it … they … we jumped too far.”  
“Do ye ken why?”  
“No,”  
Claire shook her head and bit her lip. She had her suspicions but wasn’t sure that she was ready to share them with Jamie.  
“Room for secrets, no’ lies Sassenach?”  
Jamie smiled, reading her face as usual.  
“I have an idea of what maybe the cause but …”  
“Ye dinna ken for sure?”  
“No, I don’t.”  
Jamie held his hand out to Claire and drew her to sit beside him on the bed.  
“Weel, I willna pressure ye Sassenach, but if ye have an idea, I should like to hear it.”  
Claire puffed out her cheeks and spread her hands wide.  
“Alright,”  
She took a sip of her drink and shifted so that she was facing Jamie directly.  
“I think there is something special about you, something that drew me through time to you before and that if they drew me here, now, then it must have been for a purpose. I think that purpose was William.”  
Jamie jerked as if slapped and narrowed his eyes at Claire  
“I dinna …”  
“Listen. If we had come through in 1756 like I expected us to, William would never have been sired, or at least it is much less likely.”  
Claire shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.  
“You would never have known him.”  
“The Dunsany’s would ne’er ha’ offered me a pardon and my freedom either.”  
Jamie nodded and it was Claire’s turn to look completely baffled  
“What do you mean? You don’t have to stay there?”  
“Weel, after the stramache wi’ Willie’s official father, the Earl, they offered me my freedom as a reward of sorts for services to their family.”  
Claire snorted and Jamie pursed his lips at her but she offered no further insights   
“But at the time I … weel. Ye and the bairn, Brianna, were gone and William …”  
“You wanted to stay and be close to him?”  
Claire asked quietly, her voice barely audible.  
“Aye I did.”  
“And now?”  
Her voice quavered and Jamie’s lip quirked as he lowered his glass to the floor and straightened again. Claire was watching him with something akin to fire in her eyes but her pulse was fluttering in her throat and it was all Jamie could do not to fall to his knees in repentance for causing her such worry, or else ravage her and claim every heartbeat for himself, laying his claim to her body and her soul.  
“Sassenach… I love many people in this world but ye are my whole heart. I go where ye go, and when I canna follow, I stay and I burn for ye until ye return. I thought I would wait two hundred years for ye and I was willin’ to do it.”  
Jamie gently pushed her backwards onto the bed, lying beside her and tracing the outline of her nose and chin in the air with the tip of his finger.  
“If ye will ha’ me Claire, I will follow ye the rest o’ my days.”  
Claire nodded and together they began to heal the rift of time, finding each other as they had always done and fixing each other’s broken hearts and fractured dreams.


	8. Meeting in Sleep

Jamie arrived in the early hours of the morning and settled his horse, a final gift from the Dunsany family, in the stables. He considered sleeping out there too. He had slept in many far worse places in his life than his own families stables but even as the thought entered his mind he knew he wouldn’t do it. Not with Claire so close. To keep himself away would be like trying to make a river bend its course by throwing a pebble at the river bed. Jamie was bound to be where Claire was, whether it woke the entire house or not.  
He avoided the kitchen knowing that the dogs would be in there but as he crept past the window a movement caught his eye. A hand, small and pale in the moonlight, twitched on the table top and Jamie edged closer to the window to see who it belonged to.  
His eyes followed the hand to wrist and skinny bare arm, his eyes already adjusted to the soft moonlight that flitted through the windows of Lallybroch.   
Jamie’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze took in the sleeping child’s face, almost identical to his own, her auburn hair glinting with red sparks even in the white light.   
“Brianna.”  
He breathed her name gently; shallow breathes misting the glass and pressed his finger tips to the window pane. She must have fallen asleep after late-night foraging – a habit that had gotten him skelped more often than he cared to remember as a lad.   
Jamie smiled to himself and tore his gaze away from the child. The spare key was where it had been since he was a bairn, beneath the thick ivy roots that began by the back door. The dogs whinnied but recognised their master’s voice and remained silent at Jamie’s hastily whispered command.  
He spared them a brief fuss before straightening and stepping silently up to Brianna.   
Jamie sank to his knees beside her and wordlessly stroked the nearest tendril of fiery hair back from the little girls face.   
“Mo nighean.”  
Jamie whispered as tears slipped down his cheeks. Claire had told him of Brianna and yet to see her before him, not a dream, not an idea – an actual child, his child with some of his bad habits even! – Jamie was completely overwhelmed. He covered his face with his hands and wept as silently as he could, rocking back onto his heels and taking long, shuddering breaths to regain some composure.   
Once he was under control again, Jamie hastily mopped his face and gathered Brianna into his arms. She was heavier than she looked; her head as solid against his chest as her mothers and Jamie grinned to feel it thump against him just as Claire’s did, grace abandoned in slumber.  
“Daddy?”  
Bree blinked, cat like eyes squinting up at him.  
“Aye Brianna, it’s me. Let’s get ye to bed.”  
Brianna squirmed to get a better look at him, her mind still muddled with sleep.  
“First father?”  
Jamie kept his face neutral and nodded  
“Aye lass.”  
Brianna relaxed against him then, content to have established who he was  
“You’re prettier than Mama said.”  
She mumbled, one hand reaching up to stroke his hair.  
“As are ye a leannan. Hush now.”  
Jamie carried her upstairs, delighting in the heaviness of her breath, so like Claire in her sleep. The door to the bedroom Brianna shared with the girls was open just a crack to avoid any squeaking hinges and Jamie smiled at her cunning.   
Jamie eased her down into the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. He had thought that his daughter was done with surprising him for the evening but the tiny smile as the warmth of the blanket enveloped her stole his breath afresh. It was the exact smile that Claire and his mother had described him as having in his sleep and it elated him to see it on his daughter’s face.

With Brianna settled Jamie went in search of his wife. He expected her to be in the smaller second room but he could hear Ian’s gentle snoring coming from there. Heart thumping he made his way to the lairds room. As he eased the door open he saw her cloud of hair cascading across the pillow and sighed happily. He was home. 

Claire blinked her way into wakefulness as Jamie eased into bed beside her and her shock was quickly overtaken by ecstasy at the sight of her husband.   
“Jamie!”  
She threw her arms around his neck and he buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, delighting in her scent of herbs and something that was all of her own.   
“I saw Brianna, Sassenach.”  
He mumbled finally and Claire pulled back smiling at him  
“You did?”  
“Aye. She was asleep in the kitchen and I ken I should ha’ waited for ye to introduce us properly but … och! Sassenach, she is sae verra beautiful. She has sae much o’ ye about her…”  
The words poured out of him and Jamie shook his head in awe.  
“Thank ye Claire. Thank ye so much.”  
“Did she wake up?”  
“Aye she called me ‘Daddy’ and then ‘First Father’.”  
Jamie quirked an eyebrow at Claire, who blushed furiously  
“I’m sorry, she needed a way to get her head around you and Frank and how it all works…”  
“It doesna matter o’er much what she calls me Sassenach, there is time to work all that out.”  
Jamie gathered Claire to him and kissed her gently.  
“We ha’ time now Claire. I am a free man. Free to be the husband and father I never thought I would get to be…”  
Jamie’s smile shone brightly and Claire felt her own heart soar in response. He was right, they had all the time in the world – they had a lifetime!  
“William…”  
“Is settled, aye? His path in life is sure and safe. He’ll grow up a nobleman and he may not ha’ the estate o’ his birth right here at Lallybroch, but he’ll no go wi’out anything he needs.”  
Jamie’s voice was certain and didn’t waver and Claire nodded in agreement.   
“There is so much to say and yet I can’t think at all.”  
She laughed and Jamie snorted  
“I ken what ye mean lass.”   
They hovered in awkward silence for a few moments until the air between them shifted and the silence became comfortable. Jamie rested his chin on Claire’s head and she wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him.   
“I love ye Claire.”  
Jamie whispered at last.  
“I love you, Jamie.”  
Claire tipped her head up and kissed his chin gently. Jamie shifted her from his lap and lay down, pulling Claire to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. Claire settled her head into the hollow of his shoulder and draped her arm across his torso as their legs entwined. It was as natural as breathing; they fitted together as they had always done, time had not changed that.  
“Sassenach?”  
Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and Claire had to force her own mind through the quagmire to answer  
“Mmmm?”  
“Do ye think I’ll be a good father?”  
Claire nodded against him  
“You’ll be wonderful.”  
Jamie sighed and his breathing grew heavy as he tumbled into sleep and smiling, Claire allowed herself to follow him.


	9. Stories and Acquaintances

Jamie had sat on the edge of Brianna’s bed tentatively, half expecting the girl to ask him to leave but she had not done so and as Claire’s voice rose and fell with the telling of the story, the tension in his shoulders lessened.   
Every now and then Claire glanced up from the pages of the book and looked at him, checking he was alright but Brianna’s eyes were glued to the pages, one finger tracing along with her mother’s words attention riveted.   
Jamie watched her mouth form new words, testing them out and the small line that formed between her brows as she concentrated, the same little line that Claire had. There was so much of Claire about the little girl, it wasn’t apparent to glance at Bree – she looked like a tiny version of Jamie to the casual observer – but in the subtleties of her expression and her voice there were fleeting glimpses of her mother and they were the little things Jamie treasured the most.

He watched as Bree tried the word ‘malevolent’ and her frown deepened. Jamie found himself mouthing it silently with her. Bree looked up and grinned at him  
“It means nasty, Da.”  
She informed him and Jamie nodded, smiling back at her  
“Aye, so it does. Clever girl!”  
Bree looked between the book and Jamie and then scooted closer to Claire, patting the narrow space between her and the wall.   
“You can sit up here if you like? So you can see the book.”  
Jamie nodded wordlessly and eased himself up the bed, the wood creaking under his weight. He settled himself as best he could next to Bree, and draped his arm behind her, his fingers twining around the lengths of Claire’s hair.  
“OK? Comfy?”  
Bree asked when he was settled, carefully tugging a corner of the blanket that covered her lap over onto his leg and patting it.   
Jamie was half crushed against the wall, the cold stone was chilling his shoulders and his legs protruded from the bed awkwardly, the wooden frame digging into his heels and he wouldn’t have wished to be anywhere else at all.  
“Aye, verra much so thank ye Bree, I’m no’ squishing ye am I?”  
Jamie grinned down at her and Bree shook her head.   
“Good, shall we let ye Mam carry on?”  
“Yep.”  
Bree turned her attention back to the book and Claire obligingly began reading again, her hand reaching up to squeeze Jamie’s fingers lightly.  
Eventually Bree let her finger drop from the page and slowly leant her head back against Jamie’s arm. He moved his hand from Claire’s hair, shifting to cradle Brianna, his hand protectively across her middle.   
Brianna squirmed herself round until she was laying with her head in Jamie’s lap, her arm thrown across his legs.  
“Keep reading Mama.”  
She commanded drowsily   
“Keep reading *please* Mama.”  
Claire corrected gently and Bree nodded  
“Aye, please Mama.”  
Jamie beamed at Claire who smothered a laugh with her hand; it was the first time Bree had said ‘Aye’ to either of them and she sounded every inch the Scot.   
Jamie tentatively began smoothing her hair with the back of his left hand and Bree gave a contented huff.   
Claire read until Bree’s breathing turned to gentle snores and then closed the book.  
“I’ll help you shift her…”  
She smiled but Jamie shook his head.  
“Not yet Sassenach, gi’ me a bit longer, please?”  
Claire sat back against the headboard and ran a hand through the tussled curls at the nape of Jamie’s neck.  
“Of course, just let me know when your leg goes numb. Her head is as solid as her fathers!”  
Jamie chuckled and turned to kiss the inside of her wrist.  
“Poor wee lass!”  
He smiled indulgently at his daughter asleep on his lap.  
“She’s canny though, like ye Mo nighean donn.”  
He smoothed a lock of flaming hair back from Bree’s face and sighed.  
“I was beginning to worry she was afraid o’ me.”  
“No, she’s not. It just takes time, she’s very loyal and …”  
“And she misses Frank? Aye. I ken that well enough.”  
Jamie’s voice held only the faintest edge of jealousy and Claire sighed.  
“He was a good father to her Jamie, I know it doesn’t make up for the years lost but I hope that at least helps.”  
“It does. I owe him a great debt and I ken it Sassenach, but ye are mine, both of ye.”  
“We are.”  
Claire agreed and Jamie’s face softened.   
“Forgive me, I didna mean to sound petty lass. I still sometimes canna believe how lucky I am to have ye both here and the thought of losing ye …”  
“Hush. We’re not going anywhere.”  
Claire whispered and turned his face toward her, gently kissing his mouth, the faint taste of tea and fresh bread on his breath.  
Jamie nodded and touched his forehead lightly to hers.   
“I love ye Claire.”  
“I love you too.”  
She murmured and kissed the tip of his nose, the same nose Bree had inherited.  
“Go ahead and get settled in our room, I’ll see to Bree and be with ye in a moment.”  
Jamie said, beginning to ease himself out from under the sleeping child.  
Claire nodded and crossed to the door, taking a moment to look back at the two most important people in her world and winged a silent prayer of thanks for her family and their second chance.


	10. The brink of madness

Brianna got sick three weeks later. It started with a small cough and a runny nose and developed into something akin to modern day flu. Her chest rattled with every breath and she drifted in and out of sleep fitfully.  
Claire did everything she could but she had not been at the garden long enough to have cultivated many useful herbs and the ones she did have did nothing to bring the fever down. Jenny bustled about the kitchen making various broths and soft breads to try and tempt Brianna into eating but it was no use; whenever Bree was awake all she would take was a small amount of sweet tea and then she would collapse back against the pillows and slide back into sleep.  
Whilst the women worked to try and fight the illness Jamie spent time he was not out working sat beside his daughter’s bed, reading softly from the pile of books Bree had amassed in her room. He was thumbing through Jean de La Fontaine which Bree had picked from his study as she liked the sound of the poets name when Jenny came in with another bowl of soup.  
“La Cigale, ayant chantè, Tout l’ètè, Se trouva fort depourvue, Quand la bise fut venue: Pas un seul petit morceau …”  
Jamie broke off his recital and Jenny stooped to lay the back of her hand against Bree’s forehead.  
“Has she woken?”  
“No, not since Claire last came up.”  
“Ye should go and get some air Jamie. I’ll bide here a while.”  
Jamie shook his head mutely; looking at Brianna’s sleeping face.  
“I dinna want to leave her.”  
“I’ll call you if she wakes.”  
Jenny promised and then, casually as if it had only just occurred to her she added  
“I think Claire may have need of ye.”  
Jamie looked up and Jenny shrugged  
“Ye aren’t the only one sick wi’ worry Jamie, go an’ tend to ye wife, let me see to the bairn.”  
Jamie nodded and stood, stooping to lightly kiss Bree’s forehead before crossing to the door.  
“If she wakes …”  
“Aye, I’ll send for ye.”  
Jenny waved him off, settling herself in the seat beside Brianna’s bed. Jamie noticed the knitting needles sticking out of her pocket and smiled slightly to himself at her preparation for his obedience.  
“Taing mhor piuthar.”  
Jamie inclined his head and then went to find his wife.  
*  
Claire was in the kitchen, furiously pounding and crushing leaves and petals into submission with a mortar and pestle. Her hair was cascading down her back and her chest heaved with the strong, lengthy breaths she was taking but what Jamie noticed most was the gleam in her eyes. Fear and fury collided and his Sassenach looked as much a warrior as any man holding a sword ever had.  
“What can I do?”  
He asked and she nodded to a pot bubbling over the stove.  
“Take that off the heat.”  
Jamie obligingly did as he was told and Claire added the contents of her bowl to it, stirring gently.  
“It’s for her breathing, hopefully the steam will clear her airways a little and help her rest easier, at the moment she is fighting for breath and the body can’t heal in that state.”  
Jamie nodded and quietly thanked God that Claire possessed such knowledge as could help their lass, the thought of it being left to him made him shudder, he wouldn’t know what to do or how to help.  
“Shall I take it up to her now?”  
“No, it needs to infuse for a little while, just keep the lid on it and let it sit.”  
Claire leant back against the table and Jamie came to her, folding her into his arms both drawing and giving strength. Her body trembled like a leaf caught in a rain shower, clinging to its branch for dear life against the weight of the water.  
“She’s a tough wee thing Sassenach, and her mother is the finest healer in the land, she’ll be fine.”  
He murmured pressing a kiss to her hair and rubbing small circles on her back. Claire nodded against his chest and let out a shuddering breath.  
“I’ve never seen her this ill before, Jamie. I wasn’t prepared for it. I thought I would have time to get a medicinal garden or … something … before anything like this happened. I’ve been so stupid!”  
Claire turned away from him and pounded her fist on the table in frustration.  
“I’m her mother! I’m supposed to protect her. Everything we went through to give our baby a chance and I … I …”  
Claire covered her face as the first sob tore from her throat. Jamie pressed his lips together, forcing himself to remain calm.  
“Listen to me Claire, I may no’ have ken our daughter verra long but I ken she is a fighter.”  
He said firmly, turning Claire bodily back toward him, holding her with his gaze.  
“Ye are doin’ the best ye can, the best anyone can, for her.”  
“No, I’m not. The best for her would be to be in place with decent medicine! I’ve ripped her away from everything she knows, all the safeties and conveniences of her life because I was too selfish to live without you.”  
She spat, the fire of self-loathing smouldered in her gut, making her feel nauseous. She should have known that anything could happen, she should have been better prepared, she should have waited for Bree to be older, stronger …  
“Claire …”  
“How can you not see what I’ve done? How are you not furious with me?”  
“Because I would ha’ done the same!”  
“No you wouldn’t!”  
Claire snapped, pulling away to glare up at him  
“Jamie, you were willing to die to keep Brianna and I safe. You sent us away to live without you. I dragged her back. The crossing alone could have killed her and I knew it. I’ve never told you it, but I KNEW it Jamie. As I stood at the stones I KNEW I was endangering the life of our child and I did it anyway.”  
Jamie nodded and braced himself against the table. He had known the crossing was dangerous, the power of the stones was not something he took lightly, but he had decided not to ask Claire about it for this very reason.  
“Aye, but ye both made it through safely.”  
“But if it was you, you would not have risked her life. Would you?”  
“I would Claire.”  
“No you wouldn’t…”  
Jamie slapped his palm down on the table top and Claire saw just how furious he was.  
“So are angry with me for it.”  
She whispered, palms slick with sweat.  
“Now ye listen to me Claire Fraser. I dinna take what I am about to say lightly and I dinna mean to say it twice,”  
Jamie watched to make sure he had her complete attention and when she nodded he continued  
“I sent ye away because I had to but if there had been a way for me to get back to ye, I would ha’ taken any chance, no matter the risk and no matter the cost. What ye are asking me to say is that I would ha’ risked our only child to see your face again and I am telling ye that I would.”  
He drew a breath, visibly shaken and Claire held her hand out to him but Jamie drew back  
“I’m no’ finished. I canna imagine the fear ye felt for Brianna and the courage it took to make that journey wi’ her anyway and coward that I am, I am glad it wasna me that had to be the one to decide. Ye ha’ more strength than ye ken, Claire. Ye ha’ given me a chance to meet our daughter, to ken her name and see her smile. I canna say that ye did right, but I can say that I am glad of what ye did and tell ye truthfully that I would ha’ done it too.”  
Jamie pulled his wife close to him then and kissed her gently  
“I love ye beyond the brink o’ madness Claire, I always have, I always will. I ken ye love Bree, ye are a wonderful mother but I am your whole heart as ye are mine.”  
Claire smiled shakily against his lips in understanding  
“I couldn’t have gone on much longer without you Jamie; I truly do not think I had much strength left to go on living without you.”  
“Ye would have managed Sassenach, but I am glad ye dinna have to.”  
Jamie sniffed the air  
“Is yon wee concoction ready?”  
“Yes, I expect it is.”  
Claire sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. As she ladled some of the water into a deep bowl Claire realised that a weight she had been carrying since arriving at Lallybroch had shifted. The guilt of her choice would never completely leave her but sharing it with Jamie had made it easier to bear.  
*  
Despite Claire’s efforts, Bree’s fever peaked that night. She tossed and turned in the sheets, sometimes whimpering, other times shouting out, caught in a land between wakefulness and sleep.  
“MAMA!”  
“I’m here, shhh. It’s alright, I’m here.”  
Claire pressed the cool cloth against Brianna’s brow and the little girl flailed her arms weakly in protest.  
“I want Daddy, please, I want Daddy.”  
She sobbed. Claire swallowed the lump in her throat and looked at Jamie helplessly. It was the fourth time Bree had asked for Frank and his lips were pressed together in an agony of the heart and soul that Claire could only imagine.  
“I ken ye do a leannan, but ye have me, I’m here.”  
He said softly and for a moment Bree’s eyes focussed on him, bloodshot and dark with exhaustion, then her face crumpled and she began to cry again.  
“Where’s Daddy?”  
Jamie plucked her out of the sweat sodden sheets and sat her on his lap, rocking her gently and making soothing noises.  
“I’m so sorry Jamie, she doesn’t mean …”  
“Hush Sassenach. Dinna fash. It’s alright, the lass is no’ verra well but she is bonnie and braw and will feel better soon enough; won’t ye Bree? Hmm?”  
Claire sighed gently, the tone of Jamie’s voice was gentle and sure, a port in a storm and she clung to it for all she was worth. Even Brianna, in the haze of fever, seemed to relax a little under his spell.  
“I once heard o’ a lass, wi’ fiery red hair, brave as a lion and cunning as a fox. She was the most beautiful lass in all the land and had admirers in every corner of the world, from the towns and villages o’ Scotland right through into the deepest jungles o’ India,”  
As Jamie spoke he smoothed Bree’s hair back from her forehead and face and continued to hold her securely on his lap, his chin resting lightly on her head.  
“One day the beautiful lass got verra ill and all of those who loved her became verra unhappy for they wanted nothin’ more than to see their bonnie lass smile again. Luckily her mother was a rare fine healer and knew the ways of plants and flowers and all of nature, and she knew how to make the girl well again.”  
Jamie lifted the cup of honeyed water Claire had placed beside the bed to Bree’s lips and helped her sip a little. Being outside of the blankets seemed to have calmed her down and the steady rhythm of Jamie’s voice and rocking motion soothed her further, her head lolled to the side, resting on her father’s shoulder and aside from the occasional sniffle, she was quiet.  
“But the girl had not always lived in Scotland, she came from a verra different place and with the sickness came the memory and the longing for the place she came from. She missed the people and the places terribly and wanted to go back.”  
Jamie stood, carefully boosting Bree into his arms and crossed to the window.  
“Luckily, along with her beauty and her cleverness she also possessed a wondrous soul and the ability to feel people’s presence no matter where they were. All she needed to do was to look up at the moon and she would know that the people she missed the most were safe and happy and that they loved her verra much still and always would.”  
Brianna opened her eyes blearily and looked out of the window.  
“Do ye see?”  
Jamie pointed toward the moon and Bree nodded.  
“Even when it is behind the clouds and ye canna see it clearly, every night the moon is there and ye ken that ye are loved deeply, by those near and far. Ye are loved by ye Mam, ye Daddy and by me a leannan. I love ye verra much indeed.”  
Bree yawned and shivered and Jamie carried her back to the bed, which Claire had stripped of the soggy sheets and laid a fresh blanket down. He lowered her gently but Bree kept a solid grip on his shirt collar when he tried to stand.  
“Don’t go.”  
She whispered and Jamie shook his head, eyes locking with hers.  
“I’ll no’ go anywhere.”  
Satisfied, she let go of his shirt and allowed her head to sink onto the pillow, eyes closing almost immediately.  
As her breathing got heavy, Jamie eased himself from the little bed and sat down in the chair he had previously vacated, drawing it close so that she would see him instantly when she woke.  
“I’ll stay here tonight Sassenach, ye get some rest.”  
Claire wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed a kiss to his neck.  
“Thank you.”  
She whispered and Jamie understood all that she referred to. He always had.  
“If the lass has a kindly feelin’ toward the man it means he treated her well.”  
Jamie looked at Bree and shrugged  
“That I have lived to see the day when I am in her heart even in a small way... it is more to me than ye can imagine.”  
Claire squeezed his hand lightly, stroking her thumb across his wrist.  
“You’re a good man James Fraser.”  
Jamie turned his head to kiss her finger tips.  
“Get some sleep Sassenach, I’ll wake ye if she needs ye.”  
*  
As Claire got into bed, she pressed her hand to the still flat slope of her belly and smiled to herself and the little spark within.


	11. And finally, we reach our destination. Just as we are meant to.

Once the fever broke, Bree's recovery was swift. She bounced back quicker than Claire had dared to hope but she still insisted Bree stayed in bed for at least a week. During that time Jamie barely left her side. They read books, began Gaelic lessons in earnest and Bree taught Jamie how to play Old Maid. The relationship shifted into something more comfortable and Claire noticed that they seemed more open to each other with every passing day.  
When Brianna was finally well enough that even Claire could not justify keeping her under wraps, Jamie suggested taking her for a ride. Claire was hesitant, not wanting Bree to do too much too soon after being so ill, but Bree was so excited at the prospect of horse riding that Claire allowed herself to be persuaded.  
“Bye Mama!”  
Bree waved cheerfully, perched atop a sweet tempered black mare named Aoileann.   
“Bye! Be good, have fun!”  
Claire called back and blew a kiss to her daughter and another to her husband. Jamie grinned back at her before turning his full attention to Brianna.  
“Ready?”  
“Yes!”  
Bree nodded eagerly, clutching the reigns tightly in her small fists. Jamie smiled indulgently at her and clicked his tongue against his teeth, urging the horses forward. Bree let out an excited whoop as Aoileann stepped delicately onto the path and began to trot alongside Jamie's mount.   
Jamie took the smoothest paths, sticking to safe easy to manage routes and giving Bree tips on how to sit and how to command the horses with light touches and gentle words.  
“Horses are verra intelligent creatures, they have feelings about people just as we do an' it is important to forge a good relationship based on trust wi' them.”  
“Do you think I'll have a good relationship with Aoileann?”  
“Och! I dinna doubt it, she is a gentle beast and ye are bein' verra kind. She'll appreciate that.”  
Bree beamed at him and reverently stroked Aoileann's dark mane.   
“Do you think we could gallop?”  
“When ye have had a bit more practice maybe. Ye Mam would ne'er forgive me if ye fell off and bashed ye head!”  
“I bash my head all the time!”  
Bree shrugged  
“Mama says I need to learn caution.”  
Jamie laughed and Bree realised just how much she enjoyed the sound of it. It was deep and rich, like the way a tree might sound if trees could laugh.   
“Aye, weel maybe ye do but bein' brave is no a bad thing.”  
“Daddy says ...”  
Bree stopped herself and pressed her lips tightly together, embarrassed. Jamie watched her out of the corner of his eye and considered the girl for a moment.  
“Go ahead mo chridhe, what is it he says?”  
Bree shook her head  
“Mama says I should try not to mention him, especially not to you. She says it could hurt your feelings.”  
Jamie smiled slightly and shrugged  
“I would like verra much to hear ye thoughts on all things. Ye dinna need to be afraid of telling me anything Brianna.”  
Bree considered him for a moment and Jamie kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead, allowing her space to make up her mind.  
“Daddy says … used to say … that I needed to learn more self-discipline.”  
“Ah, weel that is a verra important thing to learn.”  
Jamie nodded sagely and Bree shrugged  
“I think children have enough people teaching them discipline, I don't think we need to teach ourselves as well.”  
Jamie let out another tree-laugh as Bree had decided to think of them  
“Aye, I felt the same way too.”  
“Did you lack discipline too?”  
“Och no! My Da saw to it that I ne'er went wi'out on that end o' things.”  
Jamie chuckled and Bree grinned at him  
“Aunt Jenny said you were a terror. She said that if I'm anything like you then between me and wee Ian she'll be completely grey in no time.”  
Jamie smiled at her.   
“Aye, I was a wee horror when the mood took me, luckily ye seem to have inherited ye Mam's sensible nature.”  
“Mama isn't sensible! Daddy used to call her 'wild' and say that she didn't know how to be a professors wife. I don't think he meant for me to hear that.”  
“No, probably not.”  
Jamie agreed, clutching the reigns a little tighter  
“I don't … I don't think Mama and I are going to go back to Daddy.”  
Jamie jolted in the saddle and his horse snorted in rebuke.   
“Ah... no, I dinna think so.”  
He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry  
“Do ye mind that, a leannan?”  
“I miss him but … I like it here and Mama seems happier. With you.”  
Jamie picked up the slight note of wariness in Bree's voice. Not an accusation but perhaps close.  
“I love ye mother verra much.”  
Jamie said quietly, watching his daughter for her reaction. Brianna met his gaze and nodded  
“Good because I think Mama deserves someone to love her for who she is, just as she is. Daddy was mad at her all the time but Mama was just being herself I think.”  
Jamie rubbed the side of his nose with his index finger, slightly taken aback by Brianna's perceptiveness.  
They rode in silence for a little while and then Jamie steered them into a small clearing by a stream. It was peaceful, the bright light of the midday sun filtered through the leaves of a giant oak tree, dappling the ground with yellow. Patches of daffodils and blue bells had forced their way through the soil and turned their heads proudly toward the light.  
“Shall we stop for a drink?”  
Jamie hopped down from his horse and helped Brianna down too. The little girl bent to touch her toes, easing the cramp from her legs and back.   
“Do you come here often?”  
“I used to, it's a good place to gather ye thoughts, ken?”  
“Mmm. It's lovely.”  
Bree smiled and squatted beside the flowers, tracing the delicate petals with her finger tip  
“Do ye think we should take some back for ye Mam?”  
Jamie asked, squatting down beside her. Bree shook her head  
“No, Daddy always brought Mama flowers but I think she prefers to see them alive than all chopped and arranged.”  
“Ye're probably right, lass. Ye mother has a green finger.”  
Bree stood and wandered over to the stream  
“Can I go in?”  
“Aye, if ye like.”  
Jamie smiled to himself as Bree hopped from foot to foot taking off her boots and hoiked her skirt up above her knees before taking a shuffling run up and jumping in with both feet.  
“WOOAAHH! IT'S FREEZING!!”  
She shrieked, kicking her feet out and wiggling one ankle then the other. Jamie laughed and kicked off his own boots and rolling up is breeks.   
“Is it?”  
He stepped into the water and gasped,   
“Dhia! It is!”  
The water came half-way up Bree's shins but she stepped out further and grinned at him.  
“Are you chicken?”  
She teased and Jamie cocked an eyebrow at her  
“Chicken is it?”  
He stroad past her, squeaking as the water splashed up his thighs, soaking his trousers.  
“I can do better than that!”  
Bree declared, her face alight with mischief.  
“Carefull of ye dress, if ye get it wet and dirty ye Mam might skelp ye!”  
Jamie said casually, the dare evident in his voice. Bree narrowed her eyes at him and took four decisive steps forward, then another  
“No she won't. Besides your breeks are already wet so you better watch out too!”  
Jamie's grin widened.  
“True, but I dinna think ye can go much farther than ye already are where as …”  
Jamie edged gingerly forward and folded his arms  
“... I can.”  
By now the water was up past his knees and his toes were beginning to go numb. Bree considered it for a moment and Jamie could see her wondering whether to take the challenge or accept defeat when another thought crossed her face. His eyes widened and but he didn't have time to duck before the scoop of freezing water hit him in the face.  
“Ach!!! Ye wee fiend!”  
Bree's delighted giggle followed the sounds of her splashing away towards dry land and Jamie lunged after her. Bree shrieked and dashed up the bank but a strong hand caught the back of her dress and she was hoisted up into her father's arms.   
“Foul play, is it?”  
Jamie laughed and shifted her under the crook of his arm.  
“Nooooo! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”  
Bree cackled as Jamie waded back into the water. He dangled her head first in front of himself and Bree's plait flopped forward the tip of it almost reaching the water.   
“I dinna ken if I believe that apology to be sincere!”  
Jamie said, mock serious. Bree was laughing so much that she could barely catch her breath but she managed a squeal as Jamie pretended to drop her.  
“Don't Da! Doooon't!”  
“No?”  
“Noooo!”  
Grinning Jamie scooped a handful of water up and trickled it down her neck causing her squirming to intensify.  
“DAAAAAA!”  
Jamie turned and made his way back, carefully putting Bree on the bank. She sat down, breathless with laughter and beamed up at him.  
“I can't believe you did that!”  
“I canna believe ye splashed ye poor defenceless father in such a manner!”   
He countered flopping down beside her and laying back with an arm thrown over his eyes.  
“Did you really mind?”  
Bree asked   
“No, I didna really mind.”  
Jamie assured her. Bree looked down at his feet and grinned  
“You and I have the same toes, Mama calls them 'frog feet'.”  
Jamie wiggled his toes and sat up  
“So we do.”  
“You really are my proper Daddy aren't you?”  
Bree was still looking at his feet and Jamie sighed softly  
“I am and I couldna be prouder of it. Prouder of ye.”  
Bree shifted her gaze to his face and Jamie saw how conflicted she was, his bonnie, clever, sensitive wee lass.   
“Listen to me Brianna, I willna force ye to call me 'Da' or any such thing...”  
“I want to though!”  
Bree interrupted  
“I do, it's just that … I feel bad. It feels like I'm betraying Daddy.”  
“Och! Bree, ye are no' betraying anyone!”  
Jamie exclaimed   
“But he doesn't have anyone else. He always said I was his girl and the only one he needed and if I forget him ...”  
“Ye willna ever forget him lass, he was with ye all the years I could not be and he played a big part in making ye the wonderful wee lassie that ye are.”  
Bree bit her lip and nodded, she hadn't thought that he would understand, Mama didn't, but it seemed that Da did.  
“I didn't say good bye to him.”  
She said and Jamie saw tears in her beautiful blue eyes and it broke his heart a little.  
“I never thanked him, for takin' care of ye and ye Mam before ye made it back to me. Why don't we both say what we need to now?”  
Bree looked at him in confusion but Jamie only smiled at her and stood up, dusting off his breeks and held out his hand to her.  
“Come ...”  
Bree took his hand and Jamie lead her over to the oak tree  
“Trees live a lot longer than we do, I bet this tree will still be here in two hundred years and can carry a message for that long.”  
He cleared his throat theatrically and placed his palm flat against the bark  
“Thank ye, Frank, for takin' care o' my wife and daughter when I could not. Thank ye for keepin' them safe and for loving my Brianna so well.”  
Jamie stepped back and nodded to Bree. She took at deep breath and pressed her own much smaller hand against the tree  
“I miss you Daddy and I promise I will think of you and remember you and I love you. Thank you for everything,”  
She paused and looked up at the branches overhead  
“Bye Daddy.”  
Bree whispered and let go of the tree and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Jamie crouched down and gently turned her toward him, letting her bury her face against his shoulder and sob everything out. Jamie shed his own tears silently, remaining as still and constant as his daughter needed him to.  
When she was finished he pulled her shirt sleeve over his hand and pressed the fabric to her nose  
“Blow.”  
He commanded and Bree did so, giggling.  
“Good girl.”  
Jamie smiled and shoved the sleeve up to his elbow  
“Are ye ready to ride on a wee bit? There is meadow a little way away and we might be able to urge yon Aoileann into a canter at least.”  
Brianna nodded   
“OK Da.”  
Jamie coaxed the horses away from the stream as Bree collected their boots and then boosted her up into the saddle.   
“Thank you Da.”  
She smiled and Jamie's world felt truly complete for the first time in many, many years.


	12. Lessons to Learn.

“Aye good… verra good. Gently now, urge him forward wi’ ye heels… Good.”  
“Will I hurt him?”  
“No mo chridhe, ye willna hurt him.”  
Bree nudged the horse forward and let out a whoop of glee as he gathered pace into a trot. She had gotten on very well with Aoileann but Jamie wanted to be sure that Bree could also manage the less gentle horses, should she ever need to and so he had decided to try her with Thunder.  
“I’m doing it!”  
“Aye ye are!”  
Jamie called out, beaming with joy as his daughter led Thunder around the paddock. It had been Bree who named the beast and although Jamie had thought it odd at first, the way the sunlight reflected deep hues of grey from his coat was eerily reminiscent of a dark cloud and the name suited him; the lass clearly had her grandmother’s eye for colours.  
*I’ll have to get the lass some paints.*  
Jamie thought idly.  
Bree clicked her tongue against her teeth the way her Da had shown her and dug her heels in again, giving Thunder all the permission he needed. The animal gathered more speed and the sound of hooves and Brianna’s delighted laughter filled the quiet paddock. Jamie leant back against the fence content just to watch her, there was no real danger of a mishap in the enclosure and Brianna was still a little cautious of the larger horse which was a good thing for now.  
Jamie took in the way wisps of the girl’s hair streamed out behind her, rich copper sparks against the backdrop of green fields and smiled at how her nose crinkled when she laughed, just like Claire’s. They were obvious things, things he had noticed before but he never wanted to stop appreciating them. He didn’t know how the standing stones worked but they had given him two precious gifts and although his faith lay with the church, Jamie had a healthy respect for the old Gods.  
When Claire had first told him of her journey through the Faerie Stones he had, if he was completely honest, thought that the lass was unhinged. He hadn’t blamed her for it, no doubt something truly awful must have happened to detach her from reality in such a way, but none the less he did not believe it to be true.   
Then as her story unfolded she had run from him; laughing almost maniacally in the face of the absolute hopelessness of her situation and he had been afraid. The things that she knew or claimed to know, the way she could walk amongst the sick, he had seen that with his own eyes and it was not natural but it leant weight to her tale.  
And finally she had wept in his arms, whispering his name with such tenderness that his fears gave way to a love purer than he had known he could hold in his heart. For whatever she was; first and foremost she was his, and he found that he had the power to decide whether or not he believed her, and he had chosen to believe his wife and that choice had led him to this moment, here with Brianna …   
Jamie was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Thunder bringing himself up to a gallop, heading toward the fence. Bree, now clinging to the reigns for all she was worth, was urging him on with mixed signals, confusing the beast and making him panic.  
“BREE! THUNDER! SEAS!”  
Jamie bellowed but both girl and colt were too overwhelmed to pay him any heed.   
“JESUS H ROOSEVELT CHRIST!”  
Jamie heard Claire’s yell but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the spectacle in front of him. As if time slowed down, Jamie saw the horse gather his strength, haunches flexing and muscles taut as he leapt. The sound of splintering of wood as Thunder’s hooves struck the fence post, reached his ears a split second before impact threw Brianna forward and her face collided hard with Thunder’s neck.   
By some miracle the animal righted itself and only staggered slightly upon landing as Bree lost her balance and slipped from his back, landing in with a soft thud.  
“BRIANNA!”  
Jamie and Claire glanced at each other and ran towards the spot where Bree had fallen. Jamie reached his daughter first and dropped to his knees beside her, heart pounding in his ears, uncertain of what to do.  
“Brianna?”  
He whispered, smoothing hair away from her bloodied face, panic fluttering in his chest.  
“DON’T TOUCH HER!”  
Claire yelled, thoughts of broken bones and worse racing through her mind. She fell down beside her husband nudging him out of the way and running her hands gently along Bree’s throat, neck and sides before nodding to herself and moving onto her arms and legs. There was blood from her nose smeared across Bree’s cheeks and clumped in her hair but no other immediately alarming signs. Jamie watched Claire work, his face ashen.  
“I should ha’ been paying more attention…”  
Claire was dimly aware that he was trembling beside her and took a second to flash him a small smile.   
“It wasn’t you fault, I’m sure she’s fine, it’s just a faint…”  
As if in illustration, Brianna’s eyes began to flutter open and Jamie let out a long shuddering breath and whispered a hasty prayer of thanks in Gaelic.   
“Mama…?”  
“It’s alright darling, I’m here.”  
Bree wiped her hand across her nose and struggled to sit up, alarmed at the sight of blood.  
“Mama!”  
“Hush, let me look…”  
Claire gently examined Bree’s nose, her fingers cool and sure as they felt along the bridge   
“I don’t think it’s broken. You’ve inherited your father’s nose: tough as Scottish granite!”  
She smiled, offering Bree her handkerchief. Glancing over at Jamie, Claire noted the flush creeping up his neck as he watched Bree dab at her nose, his shock and panic wearing off quickly and being replaced with anger. She placed her hand over his, squeezing gently. His eyes flitted briefly to Claire before returning to Brianna, gaze stony.  
“I expect ye Mam will wish to gi’ ye a proper check and get ye cleaned up, but ye’ll come to my study afterwards aye?”  
Bree hunched her shoulders defensively and nodded, a fresh trickle of blood escaping her left nostril. Jamie pursed his lips at the sight of it and Claire smiled to herself as her huge highland warrior visibly softened toward their little girl.   
“Come, I’ll carry ye back.”  
“I can walk…”  
Bree murmured but Jamie brushed the feeble protest aside with a distinctly Scottish noise at the back of his throat, and gently gathered her to his chest, lifting her as if she were made of finest porcelain. Bree wrapped her arms instinctively around his neck and the last of Jamie’s temper fizzled out.  
“Does ye nose hurt?”  
“Only a bit.”  
Bree shrugged and the corner of Jamie’s mouth lifted in a small smile.  
“Are you angry that I fell off?”  
Bree asked, laying her head lightly on her Da’s shoulder. Now that her own shock had worn off she was beginning to ache all over and was grateful that her father was carrying her rather than having to trudge back to the house herself.  
“No I’m not angry that ye fell, but ye disobeyed my instructions and put both yeself and Thunder at risk o’ serious harm.”   
Bree nodded, she knew she was going to be scolded at the very least, but there was something about the way her Da spoke to her; it was the first time he had told her off but he didn’t sound disappointed or even mad, just kind of matter of fact about it and it was reassuring.   
When they got back to the house, Claire went to the kitchen for hot water and a clean cloth and Jamie carried Bree into Claire’s surgery, setting her down on the couch.  
“Right. Ye Mam will be in presently…”  
“Da, please don’t leave.”  
Bree’s bottom lip began to quiver as she held onto Jamie’s hand. Jamie smiled and inclined his head. He had been intending to go and wait for Bree in his study but it was rare for Bree to want him so undoubtedly and he had to admit that it pleased him more than a little bit.  
“I willna go anywhere if ye wish me to stay.”  
Jamie sat down beside his daughter, one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, listening to the sounds of the house around them, Jenny bustling to and fro, the girls practicing piano and wee Ian outside with the dogs … Brianna shifted and looked up at Jamie, her eyes searching his face for something that she didn’t seem sure how to find. He obligingly kept as still as possible, though his lip quirked in a small half-smile as he studied Bree back out of the corner of his eye.  
“Did you ever break your nose?”  
She asked finally and Jamie grinned  
“Aye, before ye were born I got into a fight wi’ a soldier and he broke it for me.”  
“Do you think my nose is broken?”  
“Och! No! Ye Mam would ha’ ken it immediately if it were.”  
Jamie placed a very gentle kiss on the tip of Bree’s nose and she returned his grin.   
“Da?”  
“Mmm?”  
“I know you’re cross with me about the jump but …”  
Bree bit her lip and Jamie waited patiently for an excuse, it wouldn’t make any difference but he was willing to hear her out.  
“Was it a good one?”  
“Eh?”  
Jamie’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at his daughter in surprise, her blue eyes bright and eager.  
“The jump: Was it a good one? I thought we knocked the fence but we landed soooo…”  
Bree shrugged and Jamie had to fight back a smile. He considered for a moment before answering,  
“It wasna verra skilful but then ye dinna ken how to do it yet and ye shouldna ha’ been goin’ sae fast to begin wi’.”  
“How do you mean ‘skilfull’?”  
Bree asked, ignoring the scolding and focussing on what she wanted to know.  
* Aye, ye ken who her mother is do ye not?*   
Jamie thought to himself wryly.  
“Thunder did all the work, ye werena in control.”  
A crafty smile lit Brianna’s face but before she could speak Jamie held up a finger and levelled it at her.  
“That doesna mean it was no’ your fault. It was. Thunder was reacting to a command he thought ye were about to give, only because ye dinna ken how to gi’ it, the order never came, so he had to do it himself.”  
Brianna puffed out her cheeks with a deep breath.  
“Darn.”  
“Darn what?”  
Claire asked, bustling in with a pitcher of water and various cloths.  
“Da says my jump wasn’t very good.”  
“Good? Young lady your jump was completely berserk!”  
Claire scolded as she began to clean the drying blood from Bree’s face and hair.  
“I want to be a good rider…”  
“Aye weel, wi’ practice I think ye will be a bonnie rider…”  
Jamie smiled and Bree looked up at him hopefully as Claire continued to scrub her chin.  
“Can I try again later?”  
“No, not today, a leannan.”  
“But…”  
“Bree, I said no and besides, I dinna think ye will wish to ride later.”  
Jamie spoke lightly but saw Claire’s hand tighten on the wash-cloth she was holding   
“Why?”  
Bree asked, brows knitted in confusion   
“Because you’re likely to have a pounding headache from that bump.”  
Claire said sharply but Bree saw her parents exchange a look.   
“Here, drink this.”  
Claire shoved a mug of sweet tea at Bree and stood to face Jamie.  
“A word.”  
*  
“Claire …”  
“I don’t want to hear it Jamie!”  
“She needs to learn to heed my word.”  
“Oh for the love of God!”  
Claire rolled her eyes as her words bounced off the study walls and pointed a finger directly at his chest  
“I told you if you ever beat me again I would cut your heart out with your own dirk, why the hell do you think I would let you beat my child?”  
“OUR child.”  
Jamie countered, nostrils flaring slightly and Claire took a breath  
“Our child. Yes. Exactly. She is your child too Jamie! Why would you even want to do such a thing to her?”  
“I dinna want to Claire, but discipline is no’ a matter o’ want. It is about need.”  
“You have no idea what is needed to raise a child…”  
Claire’s hand flew to her mouth the moment the world left her lips   
“I’m sorry. Forgive me; that was beyond callous.”  
She whispered and Jamie nodded.  
“Aye, but no completely untrue.”  
Claire stepped around his desk and pressed her hands flat against his chest drawing in close to him when he made no move to pull her in and tiptoeing to kiss his chin. Jamie’s arms went around her instinctively then and he rested his forehead against hers.  
“Ye are a wonderful mother Claire, a lioness, but I am her father and I must ha’ a say in how she is raised from here onwards.”  
“But beating her …”  
“Claire, trust me to do the right thing by our daughter. Ye didna understand this time verra well when ye were first here and I ken ye hated what I did, but it did teach ye.”  
Claire sighed, she was at a cross-roads. If she defied Jamie now and refused to let him be a parent to Bree then she was driving a wedge between them and denying him the chance to be the father he so desperately longed to be. On the other hand if she allowed it, then she was condoning violence in their home as a standard and acceptable thing. She looked up at him and found his gaze already fixed on her, blue eyes languid and bottomless as the summer sky.  
“Alright, she is your daughter and I will not stop you doing what you think is best but I am begging you Jamie, please do not strap her with your belt. You do not need to do that to get your point across.”  
With that said; Claire pulled herself away from him and left the room, closing the door heavily behind her.  
*  
Bree entered the study, face washed and hair neatened, a clean dress and stockings on, a little while later. Her first impression was of being sent to the principal’s office for some misbehaviour, it was that kind of atmosphere. Her Da was stood by the window; his belt folded double in his hands, which were clasped behind his back, the fingers of his left hand drumming restlessly against his right.  
“Da?”  
“Take a seat Brianna.”  
Da’s voice was low and heavy, devoid of its usual humour and light. Bree swallowed but obligingly took a seat in front of the huge old desk. She had not been able to make out what her mother and father had been yelling about but she knew enough about Lallybroch to know what punishments to expect and from the look on her Mama’s face when she came back into the surgery, Bree knew she was probably about to experience her first.   
Jamie turned to face his daughter and his breath caught in his throat. She was looking at him, eyes wide with fear. There was no denying it, his daughter was definitely afraid. Jamie swallowed and tipped his chin upwards, noting with a tugging sensation in his chest that Bree mimicked the movement, steeling herself.  
*Aye, and so she might. Were ye and Jenny not afraid when ye had done wrong and faced ye Da?*  
He thought sternly to himself.   
“Brianna, I told ye no’ to go beyond a canter and to stick wi’ the commands ye knew. Ye ignored me and risked hurting yeself gravely and also Thunder too.”  
Bree nodded mutely and Jamie continued, pacing over to the desk and sitting opposite her  
“If a horse breaks a leg, there is no option but to kill it. Ye ken that?”  
“No, I didn’t.”  
Bree’s voice was small as she answered him, her eyes downcast.  
“Mmpphmm. Well, ye have little experience wi’ horses, so ye ignorance o’ the severity o’ ye actions is some excuse but ye still broke the rules I set for ye.”  
Bree nodded feeling completely wretched  
“I didn’t mean to, I just got so excited and Thunder was being so good that at first I didn’t notice him getting quicker, then when I did…it was too late.”  
Bree shrugged. Jamie pursed his lips. There was likely a fair amount of truth to that, Thunder was excitable and had a tendency to push his boundaries with his riders. All this same Bree knew the command to stop and she hadn’t used it.  
“Be that as it may, ye were lucky that neither of ye came to more serious harm and as your father, I canna let ye disobedience go unanswered.”  
Jamie stood up and gestured to the desk  
“I willna make ye go outside to the gate this time as I ken ye havena experienced such a hidin’ before. Bend o’er the desk and lift ye skirts lass.”  
“Yes Da.”  
Jamie’s hands were shaking and as he stepped round behind Brianna his stomach flopped. She was so small! He had almost expected it to be like beating Claire, a fierce struggle to assert his dominance and his right to be in control and her need to listen, but it was nothing like that. Brianna wasn’t fighting him, she wasn’t making excuses or trying to convince him not to do it. She accepted his authority and trusted his word. He didn’t need to do this …  
*She just made a mistake.*  
The words popped into his head almost unbidden and he couldn’t shake them off. Brianna hadn’t wilfully disobeyed him and put herself and others thoughtlessly in danger the way Claire had. It wasn’t the same.   
Jamie looked down at his daughter and shook his head. Dropping his belt to the floor he pulled her dress back into place and carefully turned her to face him, crushing her to him with trembling arms.  
“I’m sorry Brianna. I should ha’ listened to ye more carefully just now and I should ha’ paid better attention to what Thunder was doin’ earlier.”  
“It’s OK, I should have been more careful.”  
Her voice, muffled against his stomach and Jamie marvelled at children’s abilities to forgive instantly.  
“Aye, ye should and ye can stay in the rest o’ the day and help ye Mam and ye Aunt Jenny to teach ye a lesson but I think ye and I are done here – agreed?”  
Bree nodded gratefully and Jamie released his hold on her, squatting down to be on eye-level.  
“Hear me though Brianna, just because I didna thrash ye today, doesna mean I never will. I will discipline ye as I see fit, although I would be most grateful if ye could make sure I dinna need to.”  
His lip quirked in a smile which Bree returned.  
“Aye Da, thank you.”  
“Go on then.”  
Jamie ruffled her hair and watched her dash out of the room, no doubt hurrying before he could change his mind. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Jamie rocked back on his heels and sat down heavily on his arse.   
*Push over!*  
The little voice laughed and Jamie nodded to himself. That may well be true when it came to his daughter, but he truly did not care.


	13. Da, Who is that woman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So I have had loads of requests for a continuation of ‘I love you beyond the brink of madness’ - specifically nice moments between Jamie and Bree (who doesn’t love those, right?) and also a couple of requests for Claire and Bree meeting Laoghaire. What I have come up with is a sort of one-shot chapter including both of these things. I hope you like it. Han xxx

Jamie settled Brianna on the horse before him and wrapped his arm securely around her waist. Bree craned her neck to look up at him and grinned

“You look really smart, Da. Like a painting.”

Jamie smiled broadly back at her and placed a kiss on her upturned forehead.

“And ye look quite beautiful yourself, Miss Fraser.”

The use of his surname was tentative and Jamie deliberately kept his tone light and even but Brianna seemed completely unbothered. She has looked at him queerly the first time he said it and questioned if that should be her name now, the wee frown inherited from her mother prominent between her fair brows. However since that first discussion she had become neutral to the whole thing. Still Jamie used it sparingly and always with an air of respect, he would not strip the lass of her identity but if he could add to her sense of self then he saw no harm.

Bree reached up to brush a small piece of fluff from Jamie’s bonnet and he ducked his head obligingly so that she could reach.

“Do ye remember what to say when ye greet people?”

“Greetings from the Fraser’s of Lallybroch! Bountiful Lammas to ye and your kin.”

Bree projected her voice with all the theatrical flourish of a budding thespian treading the boards for the first time, her hand fluttering before her like a pale hummingbird.

“Verra good.”

Jamie nodded trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. If his child had a theatrical nature then she came by it honest. Jenny had told him that the stately ride to each of the tenants was a daft and dramatic notion, especially as most had met Brianna and certainly Claire in the months they had been back, but Jamie had wanted to do it. He was once again in his rightful place at Lallybroch and he would ride out to greet the tenants as his father had done and he would show off his greatest treasures whilst doing so - modesty be damned.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Claire’s mount drew up alongside him in the courtyard and as Jamie glanced at her his breath caught in his throat. His wife, Lady Broch Tuarach. Her hair curled lightly, framing her face with gentle wisps that Jenny had left out of the intricate plait which wound across her left shoulder. Like Brianna, her dress was rich, ocean blue wool, but whilst Brianna’s plaid was worn as a neat little cap, a length of Fraser plaid wrapped around Claire’s shoulders and pinned across the swell of her breasts with a silver brooch. 

“Mo Maise.”

Jamie murmured, bowing as low as he could without crushing Brianna, taking Claire’s hand and bringing it up to his lips, smiling at the pretty blush his action brought to Claire’s cheek.

“Thank you. I don’t know how Jenny works such magic with hair…”

Claire smiled and touched the plait self-consciously, before smoothing back a stray lock from Brianna’s brow.

“You look every inch the Highland princess.”

She smiled and Bree sat up a little straighter under her mother’s proud gaze.

“No’ a princess, Sassenach. We have discussed the matter and both feel that she is more of a warrior queen. Just like her mother.”

Jamie commented, touching the small ceremonial dirk he had fasted to Brianna’s belt that morning. It had been a source of great pride to her to wear a dagger like her father wore and softened the blow of not being able to wear breeks for the outing.

Claire had to admit that there was more than a little of the warrior about their daughter, though she did not think she got it from her! Looking at father and daughter seated on Aioleaen together, both dressed in their finery, Claire longed more than ever for a camera. Their identically lustrous red hair fell onto their shoulders and twin sets of slanted blue eyes surveyed all before them with the same cheerful countenance and cool intelligence that Claire had come to think of as a singularly Fraser way of gazing at the world.

Overhead a kestrel shot through the sky calling out to her mate and all three lifted their faces to the pale sun to watch it make its crossing against the thick white clouds.

“Can you remember what to say to people who greet us Mama?”

“A very happy Lammas to you.”

Claire smiled and both father and daughter snorted simultaneously.

“What? That’s the correct thing to say!”

Claire huffed indignantly

“But it’s so dull! Lammas is a celebration of the first harvest of wheat for the year! You don’t want people thinking you don’t care about their harvest Mama!”

Bree scolded, carefully reciting what her Uncle Ian had told her of the reason for this celebration.

“People might give ye their first grain Sassenach, ye need to be prepared to look suitably pleased.”

Jamie joined in, mischief lighting up his eyes, making him look more like Brianna than ever.

“Taking the first grain is a verra great honour.”

“I took your first grain, surely I’ve been honoured enough!”

Claire muttered and Jamie’s eyes flew wide before he tipped his head back with unexpected laughter.

“And as I recall ye were suitably pleased.”

He grinned once he had recovered and Claire rolled her eyes, fighting back her own smile.”

“Don’t worry Mama, I’ll do the thanking, you just collect what they offer.”

Bree organised, handing the small sack Jenny had given her across to Claire who took it with as much dignity as she could muster and folded it neatly in her lap.

*

Claire curtsied and made polite conversation but allowed Jamie and Bree to take centre stage and both seemed more than happy to rise to the occasion. Jamie kept his countenance as straight and formal as he could, greeting the tenants with dignity and warm smiles but Claire could see the barely contained pride in the set of his shoulders and the indulgent smile that curved his lips each time Brianna made her proclamation of good wishes to the houses they visited.

He shook hands, accepted tributes and handed out small loaves of bread from Jenny’s kitchen but throughout all the dealings one hand remained with Brianna, either around her waist on the horse, on her shoulder as she spoke to people or holding her own smaller hand in his as they walked towards a door. It was, Claire realised, the same way he had declared her as his own the first time he had brought her to Lallybroch and the sight of it warmed her heart.

They continued on, the bread running lower until there were only a couple of loaves left, whilst the wheat sack that Claire held was becoming increasing fat and rather cumbersome and she became quite concerned that it would swing down from her lap like a pendulum and smack a well-wisher in the face if she leant too far over in the saddle to greet them.

“I’ll go alone to the next house, a leannan.”

Jamie said quietly and both Bree and Claire looked at him askance.

“It’s the McKimmie place, ken?”

Jamie’s eyes met Claire’s apologetically and she shrugged, despite the slight flutter of anger in her chest that she felt whenever she had to think of Laoghaire. Bree also wrinkled her nose, she had never met Laoghaire and had no particular reason to dislike the residents of the small house beneath the hill, but she felt that Marsali was too often the centre of her beloved Fergus’ attention and all too often he would send her back to the big house when Marsali came along. Bree would not call it jealousy, not even to herself, and forced herself to be polite when she had to be but she was in no hurry to wish the girl a happy Lammas either.

They rode on in silence; Jamie intended to stop by the shade of one of the large oak trees by the creek so that the horses might take a drink whilst he conducted business as swiftly and hopefully painlessly as possible.

None of them spotted the small woman crouched by the roadside until they were almost upon her. She was crouched low, her head bent and face averted from them and when she looked up, the lower half of her face was covered in blood.

“Oh!”

Claire was out of the saddle and hurrying forward, medical instincts overtaking, before she could think twice, Jamie’s call of warning and muttered curse lost to her.

“Laoghaire! What happened?”

Laoghaire had stiffened seeing who it was approaching but blood was dripping from her chin and the bleed from both nostrils was showing no signs of stopping so she could hardly deny that anything was amiss. Of course the Sassenach couldn’t help herself with a chance to show off her ‘healing’, she thought bitterly to herself as she forced herself to her feet.

“Nothing, I get the bleeds sometimes. It is no concern.”

She answered as Claire pressed a clean handkerchief into her hand and tried to examine her face.

“Please… Mistress Fraser, dinna fash o’er it. I dinna need tending.”

Laoghaire ducked away from the cool touch of Claire’s fingers and waved her away. It was bad enough that she should be found in such a state, but to be touched and prodded by the bitch was more than Laoghaire could stand.

“Da, who is that woman?”

Bree asked, turning to Jamie, her brow wrinkled in confusion and shock of seeing the state of her face.

“Mistress McKimmie, a woman that your mother and I knew long ago, mo chridhe.”

Jamie answered shortly and swung out of the saddle, taking the last of the bread with him.

“Stay here.”

Bree glanced again at the woman waving her mother away and her interest sparked

“But can’t I …”

“Stay.”

Jamie spoke firmly, fixing his daughter with a gimlet eye that brooked no further argument, before turning on his heel and approaching the women.

“Oh!”

Laoghaire curtsied as elegantly as she could, the new handkerchief pressed to her face as Jamie strode towards them.

“Mistress McKimmie, can we help ye at all? We came to bid ye a bountiful Lammas.”

Jamie kept his words formal, but his tone gentle and slowly bridged the distance between them, palms held out in a gesture of peace.

“Ye seem to be in some distress, lass. Will ye not let my wife tend ye?”

“’Tis just a nosebleed Ja… my laird. Nothing more.”

Laoghaire looked at Jamie with pleading eyes and after considering for a moment Jamie offered the small cloth bag of bread to her, gently pulling Claire away, placing himself between the two women, a hand extended to each.

“Then we bid ye a good Lammas and may your harvest be blessed.”

Jamie said softly and offered the woman a small, kind smile.

“Thank ye.”

As she took the bag from him, Laoghaire allowed her fingertips to linger a fraction of a second longer the necessary against the warm skin of Jamie’s hand before pulling away and ducking her head once more in thanks as Claire slipped her palm into Jamie’s hand and drew him to her.

They watched Laoghaire walk slowly back towards her house and Claire waited until she could be sure Laoghaire was out of earshot before turning to Jamie, her brow wrinkled in the same confused frown Brianna had given him minutes before.

“Why didn’t you persuade her to let me take a look?”

“It’s just a nosebleed Claire. Her pride would have taken longer to heal had I insisted she let ye tend her.”

Claire snorted and leant her head lightly against Jamie’s shoulder

“Laoghaire’s pride! This is the second time that you have stepped into the fray for the sake of her pride.”

Jamie looked down his nose at Claire from the corner of his eye and resisted the urge to shrug.

“Ye get a bit swept up in medical matters, aye? It’s why Brianna comes to me wi’ scraped knees and bumps.”

Startled, Claire returned his look with interest.

“Once. She went to you once.”

“Aye, but I expect she will again for I dinna insist on poking at her…”

Sensing an argument brewing Jamie let the matter drop and turned to face Claire properly, placing his hands gently on her arms, smoothing the fabric of her dress.

“Ye have no reason to be jealous on Laoghaire’s account, Sassenach. If ye are, which I am no’ saying is the case.”

Jamie continued quickly, seeing a flash of annoyance in his wife’s whisky eyes.

“I’m not jealous, but … well you seem to have a similar understanding of pride and maybe it’s a Scottish thing…”

Claire stopped, taking a deep breath.

“I sound like a jealous school girl with a crush.”

She smiled ruefully and Jamie grinned

“Aye, maybe a little but I understand it for all it is a daft notion. Ye are as prideful as any lass I have ever known, except maybe Jenny, and ye ken well enough that I pay heed to it.”

“I know, but sometimes I do wonder if … well if your life would have been simpler with someone of … your kind and kin.”

Claire finished limply. She half expected the hands on her arms to tighten, for Jamie to protest and assure her that she was the breath in his soul but when she looked up at him he was still grinning and did not look at all concerned by her words.

“What?”

She demanded smiling back despite herself

“Do ye remember when we were riding to Leoch, after the business with Randall and such and I said to ye that I dinna understand ye, but I like ye well enough?”

“We were walking as I was not able to ride, and you actually told me I don’t make a lot of sense.”

Claire said thinly, her memory of that particular night was not one of the most pleasant she had but Jamie brushed off her displeasure with a wave of his hand and nodded

“Aye, weel it still stands. Ye dinna always make a lot of sense, but I still like ye well enough, ken?”

“I like you too, bloody Scot!”

Claire laughed and slapped his arm lightly. Jamie caught her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckle and then turning her wrist to gently kiss her palm.

“You are my heart and soul, Claire. Please never doubt it, for I never have and I never shall.”

“Da?”

Bree called and both her parents startled slightly.

“She won’t be happy you gave the last greeting.”

Claire murmured and Jamie laughed, a rich sound that soothed away the last of Claire’s misgivings.

“Aye, she’ll likely scold me for it but I’m used to such things from my warrior queens.”


	14. Scrapping

Bree squared her shoulders and dashed a hand under her nose. She pushed the tendrils of hair which had escaped her cap back under the soft tweed and nodded.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

She looked at her cousin expectantly as small fists rose to guard her face and her elbows pulled in tight, shielding her ribs, but Ian shook his head and left his own fists hanging limp at his side.

“Let’s call it a day.”

“No! I have to be able to fight.”

“Ye can fight!”

Ian cried in exasperation.

“Fight properly! Not just scrapping.”

Bree stuck her chin out stubbornly but Ian folded his arms and shook his head

“I canna hit ye properly. Uncle Jamie will skelp me raw if I bruise ye, besides its no’ fair. I’m bigger than you and ye dinna ken how to defend yeself.”

Bree rolled her eyes and sighed heavily though her nose.

“That’s the point! Mama and Da willna let me go further than the boundaries of Lallybroch because it might not be safe. I need to be able to prove to them I can fight.”

“Prove it to them?!”

Ian cried, dark eyes going large

“Ye mean to tell them about this?”

“Of course! I …”

“Ye canna tell Uncle Jamie I’ve been beatin’ ye to a pulp in the barn!”

Ian’s voice had risen to a near shout and Bree felt her own temper flaring

“You haven’t been beating me to a pulp! I haven’t even got a black eye! You’re just a bit quicker!”

The cousins stared each other down for a few moments before Ian shrugged.

“Fine, I wouldna ha’ thumped ye if I kent that ye meant to tattle but seeing as ye seem determined to get me killed, ye might as well get on wi’ it.”

He strode over to the door and wrenched it open angrily.

“Ian, no one is going to kill you. I just need to show Da that I can fight.”

“Well ye should pick a fight wi’ him then!”

Ian huffed, striding out into the daylight and throwing his cousin a look over his shoulder as he went. Bree snatched up her jacket from the floor and dashed after him catching his arm before he could go into the house and tell someone what they’d been doing. If anyone found out now, they might want to see for themselves and Bree wasn’t ready yet, she kept dropping her guard and Ian had winded her twice.

“Alright! I won’t tell.”

She said quickly and Ian narrowed his eyes at her.

“I promise I won’t tell, Ian.”

Ian nodded curtly but the tension went out of his shoulders and Bree relaxed as well. She offered him a crooked smile and shrugged

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be so cross.”

“It’s alright. I just didna fancy bein’ caught up in your Da’s displeasure for tryin’ to help ye out.”

Ian gave her a small smile back and Bree nodded, slightly abashed. She hadn’t thought about Ian getting into trouble for it but maybe he was right. She was ‘Himself’’s daughter and Bree was beginning to realise that came with a particular set of rules, most of which were unspoken but implied in the very fact of her existence. An older boy, even her cousin, hitting her over and over until she learned to fight back was almost certainly going to break one of those rules if not cross over several of them!

“Ye could ask Uncle Jamie to teach ye? I mean, ye ken some things now and he might be surprised by how good ye are.”

“I’m not that good.”

Bree sighed and Ian grinned

“Aye ye are, for a girl you’re pretty tough. Mam says you’re like a wee ferret when ye get your dander up.”

Bree laughed; pleased that at least one of the adults at Lallybroch thought she was fierce.

*

Bree waited until after lunch to approach her father. He usually either went back to the fields or into his study to look over the books or check the ledgers and so she hovered around the dining room, waiting to see what his trajectory would be.

She hoped it would be the study because he would be more easily distracted from desk work than from a manual task. They both had that in common, a shared love of working with their hands. Bree watched him from around the edge of the door, almost shyly as he put plates and cups back in their correct places.

Daddy used to say that Brianna should have been a dancer because she moved with ‘grace and poise’ but watching Da move around the kitchen Bree felt positively clumsy. Her father was so big but everything he did seemed like it was choreographed and fitted to the exact space he occupied and Bree found herself practicing turning her own wrists with the small flourish that seemed to come so naturally to him.

She knew he couldn’t hear music but she wondered if maybe his brain still remembered it even if his ears were now deaf to musical cadence and made a mental note to ask Mama if that could happen.

“Ciamar a thu, mo chridhe?”

Bree had been so intent on watching his hands she had not realised that her father was looking at her and a blush crept across her features as she answered him, not attempting to use the Gaelic.

“I needed to ask you something, Da.”

Jamie gestured to the kitchen table and Bree took a seat, expecting him to keep working as Mama would have but he joined her and folded his hands neatly on the table top, his eyes trained on her, earnestly awaiting whatever she had to say.

“I … uh … well I wondered if you would mind teaching me something?”

Bree sat up as straight as she could, eager to show Da that she took their meeting as seriously as he seemed to be. Jamie smiled eagerly, as always only too happy for the opportunity to teach Brianna any new skill she desired. 

“Of course! What is it ye would like to learn lass?”

“I’d like to learn how to fight.”

Bree returned his smile brightly but Jamie was frowning a little as he surveyed her. Seconds ticked by and Bree realised that her request was not being met with the enthusiasm she had hoped for.

“Ye mean wi’ fists?”

“Yes. Will you teach me?”

“Why? Are ye havin’ trouble wi’ anyone at school?”

“No, but you always say a man ought to be able to defend himself and I don’t see why a girl should be any different.”

Bree shrugged and Jamie’s lip turned upward despite himself.

“It is verra important for a lass to defend herself, when ye are a little older, I will teach ye to use a dirk and where to stick it if ye have a need,”

Jamie reached out and tucked a stray curl behind Brianna’s ear

“but fighting with fists is no’ a skill for a young lass and from the look o’ Ian after the two of ye scrap, ye have more than enough prowess already.”

Bree grimaced guiltily but pressed on anyway

“But that’s just play fighting Da. What if someone tried to kidnap me? I need to be able to fight.”

Jamie opened his mouth to disagree but hesitated and closed it again. He knew Lallybroch and the people who lived here and he respected his own ability to keep her and Claire safe on their land but the lassie did have a point. Deserters were becoming less and less of a threat as time rolled on but that didn’t mean the threat was completely removed. Also there was the issue of Brianna herself. Jamie eyed his daughter frankly. If the wee fiend would stay within her boundaries then the risk to her was minimal but he knew well enough that she and Ian pushed occasionally wandered further than they ought on occasion. She was an adventurer by nature; as stubborn and curious about the world as he had been as a lad, and as fearless as her mother, a combination that did not lend itself naturally to obedience and if she should find herself in a situation that required a fight, would it not be better for her to be able to throw a punch?

“Alright.”

*

Jamie remembered being eight years old and being knocked into the hay by his father; a series of small jabs that were more shocking than painful, his Da’s hands moving in a blur of dark-haired knuckles as he showed Jamie how to jab and bring his guard back up. He could still remember the feel of his father’s calloused palms against Jamie’s small fists and he drilled his punches over and over until his arms ached, and then a few more again because a man didna stop just because his arm got tired! He remembered his Mam pressing a cool cloth to his cheek when he got back into the kitchen, calling him her wee warrior as she fed him bread and jam. He had been bruised and sore and exhausted but it was the first time he felt like a real ‘man’.

He watched as Bree carefully folded her jacket and draped it across one of the hay bales which lined the rear wall of the barn. Looking down at his hands now, he smiled to himself at the smattering of red hair, identically placed to the hair that had grown on his own father’s hands but a ripple of nerves ran through him at the thought of clipping her. Jamie took a breath and decided to start with something a little easier.

“Right then. Ye ken how to guard?”

Bree lifted her fists to shield her face and Jamie nodded

“Aye good, but no’ so stiff, ye want to be loose so they canna read ye.”

Jamie adjusted Bree’s stance and crouched down beside her

“Ye jab wi’ ye front hand and then ye rear hand provides the cross. The jab should be enough to give ye some space but the cross is for when ye want a man to go down and stay down.”

Bree nodded and followed her father’s actions, turning on the ball of her foot as she threw her arm forward, feeling the twist in her waist as she followed through.

When she had the motion right, Jamie knelt before her and lifted his palms.

“Hit me and dinna drop your guard.”

Bree tapped his palm cautiously at first, then with a little encouragement, she began to pepper him with small sharp jabs, but her excitement to be learning to punch got in the way of her defence. Jamie reminded her each time, reaching out to lift her guarding arm and raising his eyebrows each time it dipped, urging her to recall the lesson but Bree kept making the same mistake and Jamie realised his method wasn’t working.

“Next time ye drop your guard I’m goin’ to show ye why it’s important.”

He warned her finally, a small challenging smile curving his mouth as Bree rolled her eyes

“I’m trying, Da!”

“And ye are doin’ verra well but no matter how well ye can punch, as small as ye are, one good clout in the face and ye will go down like a sack of coal.”

Bree laughed and nodded her head, lifting her fists and centring her weight on the balls of her feet. Jamie flashed his palms and as her left jab came forward her right arm dipped, her fist languishing in the centre of her chest.

Before he could think too much about it, Jamie’s own left hand shot out and he flicked the tip of Brianna’s nose firmly.

“OW!”

Bree’s eyes flew wide as she pressed her fingers against the sting.

“I warned you.”

Jamie shrugged and Bree’s eyes narrowed at him.

“That hurt.”

“I daresay it stung a little, but do ye think if someone meant to fight ye they would care that it hurt?”

Bree shook her head and scowled.

“Sorry.”

“Dinna be sorry, you are doing well. But be mindful of your guard. Would ye like to stop?”

“No.”

Bree shook her head and rolled her shoulders

“No Da, and you can hit me properly if you like. I have to learn.”

Jamie shook his head and smiled ruefully at her, his bold wee lass.

“No, I dinna wish to do that.”

The thought of actually hitting Brianna, even lightly, made his stomach clench and Jamie wondered not for the first time, how his father had managed to have such grit about him. Perhaps it would be different with a lad but Jamie knew with a certainty that he could not strike Brianna in such a way. He didn’t think Ian had ever taught his girls to fight but he was glad that Brianna wanted to learn. He hadn’t been glad when she first asked, but he was now. Jamie would give his life to protect his daughter, he would do so without a second thought and he believed in his ability to protect her but his own father would have said the same of he and Jenny and yet look at all that had some to pass in their lives! No, the protection of her father was not enough. Jamie wanted Brianna to be able to protect herself too, should the time ever come that she needed to and that thought steeled his resolve.

“However, ye ken what will happen if you drop that arm, so be careful, aye?”

Jamie smiled, hastily kissing the pad of his thumb and pressing it to the tip of her nose.

He flicked her several more times over the course of the next twenty minutes. Each time Bree grunted and adjusted her stance, her guard becoming more reliable and stronger with it, which was what Jamie wanted. Defence was the priority in an attack, aggression was a secondary consideration and one that instinct could deal with for the most part.

Jamie moved her back and forth, drilling the fight into her, letting her swing her fists when she got frustrated and rewarding her efforts by conceding his ground before gradually pushing her back, forcing her to defend. When she lost her temper and tried to kick, he merely caught her foot and left her hopping backwards and forwards, tugging and pushing her until her anger turned to laughter.

“A kick is only ever useful if ye ken ye can land it. Dinna let ye temper get ahead of ye.”

He warned, releasing her and moments later driving the point home as she overshot her distance, side stepping her blow and lifting his foot to lightly tap the seat of her breeks with the toe of his boot.

“But you just said …”

“I said only if ye can land it.”

Jamie smirked and Bree grinned despite herself. Jamie worked his way around her and then turned letting her get her revenge, which she did with rather more enthusiasm than he had counted on.

Finally Bree flopped against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her heart pounding against his own chest.

“Can we stop now Da? My arms feel like jelly.”

“Of course, mo nigheann ruaidh.”

Jamie wrapped his own arms around her, holding her close. She smelt of sweat and hay and the rose soap that Jenny had made each of the girls and Jamie breathed deeply. He turned in his crouch and patted his shoulder and Bree boosted herself onto his back, giving a delighted ‘Woop!’ as her father stood up, his role as adversary suspended and his role as her protector and guardian firmly back in place.

*

That night as Jamie tucked Bree into bed, her eyes drooping with sleep, she caught his hand and kissed his palm before murmuring

“I love you, Da. Thank you for flicking me in the face.”

Jamie managed to get out of the room before giving in to the laughter that bubbled up his throat and sat on the top stair, shoulders shaking, until he could trust himself to make it down the stairs.


	15. Any Other Way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one shot of Claire, Bree and Jamie just having some time.

Claire smiled as she felt the bed sag. Jamie stretched along the edge of the mattress and gently pressed his palm against her forehead.

“Mmm. Your skin is so cool.”

She murmured. The answering grunt from her left made her crack one eye open and squint into the dimly lit room. The light sent shooting pains through her head and made her stomach lurch and Claire promptly closed her eyes again and groaned.

“Ye’re burning up lass.”

The concern in his voice was prominent and Claire forced a thin smile 

“It’s just a touch of cold and fever. Bree and Jenny had it last week, I’ll be fine.”

“But wi’ the bairn so far along…”

“We’ve a couple of weeks to go yet.”

Claire spoke with more certainty than she felt and forced her eyes open again. She could make out the fuzzy outline of her husband’s face, ruddy brows lowered in a worried frown and mouth set in a grim line.

“Stop it, Jamie. You’re worrying about a sniffle and a headache.”

She said sternly and was rewarded with another grunt and a gentle prodding at her throat.

“What are you … ah! No your hands are cold!”

Claire swatted weakly at him and the fingers withdrew

“I was feeling for ye glands.”

“They’re not swollen, I already checked.”

“Did ye no’ give me a fair terrible ear-bashing for self-diagnosis not two weeks past?”

Jamie clucked his tongue against his teeth as he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders

“You are not a doctor. I am.”

“Right now ye are a patient.”

He said firmly and the bed moved again as he stood up.

“I’ll bring ye a wee pot of tea and some soup.”

“No soup.”

Claire shuddered at the thought of trying to eat.

“Ye must try a bit Claire, the bairn needs nourishment and ye didna take a bite yesterday…”

Claire knew this was true and although her stomach shivered at the thought of food, she nodded gently against the pillow.

“Alright, bread then. Dry. No butter.”

“Good.”

She could hear the satisfied smile in Jamie’s voice and imagined throwing something suitably heavy at him, bloody know-it-all.

A little while later the door opened again and Claire forced herself to sit up, not wanting Jamie to lift her. The huge swell of her belly made the task ungainly and undignified and she would just as soon manage alone.

“I brought you some bread, Mama.”

Claire startled at the little voice and blinked in confusion at Bree.

“Honey, you shouldn’t be in here. You could get sick again.”

“It’s OK Mama, I don’t mind.”

Bree padded over and carefully placed a neatly packaged tray on the bed before sitting on the edge and crossing her legs neatly beneath her. Claire settled back against the pillows and sighed. Her head was pulsing but the sight of the carefully sliced bread made her stomach growl and the baby stirred, pressing his heel against her in apparent encouragement. 

“I baked that loaf.”

“You did?”

Claire looked at it and raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise. Bree had not taken to baking with any great aptitude and Jenny had insisted that she keep practicing despite the continual stream of heavy, sunken bread that came from Brianna’s efforts.

“Yep, Aunt Jenny only helped me take it out of the oven, everything else I did myself.”

Bree smiled and Claire smiled broadly back at her. She seldom had the luxury of sitting in her child’s company with no task at hand besides the consumption of food, just the two of them.

“Have you tried it?”

“Not yet, but it smells good and the texture is right.”

Bree nodded happily and Claire carefully folded a piece in the cloth napkin on the try, breaking it in half and handing Bree the larger piece, making sure not to touch it. The bread tasted heavenly and Claire made sure to make many appreciative noises as they ate, watching Bree glow with pleasure at the praise of her baking skills.Once they had finished the bread Bree produced another slice from her pocket, lovingly wrapped in a clean handkerchief. 

“Here Mama, have some more.”

Claire took it and raised the food to her lips, inhaling the scent and smiling as she bit into it, an exaggerated and elaborate bite that made Brianna laugh. 

“How are you, baby?”

Claire asked when the food was finished and Bree had moved the tray onto the floor.

“I’m OK. I’ve been learning how to fight with Da.”

“Uh …right well,”

Claire frowned and then shrugged

“How is that going?”

“Pretty well, I just need to practice more.”

Bree grinned. Claire cocked her head to the side, the food seemed to have helped with her headache as well as the nausea and she became aware of the changes in her daughter in a way she had not noticed before amid the hustle and bustle of life at Lallybroch. In the seven months they had been back, Bree had lost almost all of the puppy-fat she had when they arrived. Her face had slimmed down and the strong, Viking bones she had inherited from her father were more prominent. Her arms were slim and muscular from the increase in her outdoor play and her movements had become more graceful, more self-aware. Even sat on the bed in her older-cousins cast off breeks and shirt, there was a poise and a readiness about Brianna that had not been there before. 

“You’re growing up so fast, Bree!”

Claire smiled, her eyes wet with memories of the fiery haired babe who had come squalling into the world nearly a decade ago and changed Claire’s life forever. 

“Don’t cry Mama!”

Bree scooched up the bed and pressed herself against her mother’s side, small arms encircling her as best she could.

“I’m sorry. I’m not crying, not really. I’m just so damn proud of you Brianna Ellen. I don’t tell you it enough but I am so, so proud of you.” 

“You tell me plenty Mama!”

Bree laughed, and Claire snorted wetly into her handkerchief. 

“Alright well I still want to tell you more. You’re such a wonderful daughter and I know you are going to be a simply exceptional big sister to this baby.”

Bree looked up at Claire before tucking her head under her mother’s chin and letting Claire smooth her hair.

“I’m going to try.”

Bree slid down the length of the bed and rested her chin on her hand, pressing a kiss on Claire’s belly.

“Hi Baby. This is your sister, Brianna. I cannot wait to meet you.”

“I’m sure he canna wait to meet ye either.”

Bree looked up at her father, leaning against the door and grinned

“She!”

She said firmly and Jamie nodded

“He or she. I dinna mind as long as they are less trouble then their older sister.”

He teased, stepping into the room and placing a delicate kiss on the top of Claire’s head before settling himself next to Brianna on the bed.

“Did you get her to eat it all?”

He murmured in his daughter’s ear and Bree nodded almost imperceptibly. Jamie squeezed her shoulder gratefully and Bree’s lip quirked up in a small proud smile.

“I should get up.”

Claire began to push the bedclothes off but a large hand covered her fingers and she looked up to see identical blue eyes giving her identically stern looks.

“Ye are to stay in bed, Sassenach. Dinna make me tell ye twice.”

“Yeah Mama. You need to rest.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. She might have stood a chance against one Fraser, but two … it was a lost cause.The three of them spent the next half an hour talking and catching up on the events of the past few days. Claire and Jamie listened proudly as Bree recited a poem she had written at school and received an actual smile from the school master, a formidable old chap who was slow to praise and quick to scold.

“You must get your gift of language from your father; I was never any good at poetry.”

Claire sighed and Jamie grinned

“I dinna ken about that Sassenach. Ye told me that one about beans being good for the heart…”

“Ha! And even that was cribbed from someone else.”

“I know that one too!”

Bree cried and recited the verse with a theatrical finish, pressing the heels of her hands against her mouth and filling the room with a raspberry before collapsing into giggles. 

“Aye verra good.”

Jamie said dryly and stood up, seizing the back of Bree’s shirt and breeks and lifting her like a drunk about to be thrown from a tavern.

“I think we ought to let ye Mam get some rest.”

“Bye Mama!”

Bree called, still fizzing with mirth as she was carried from the room, Jamie pretending to throw her ahead of him.Claire watched them go and thanked all the God’s she could name for her good fortune in being here with her family, for the love they shared and the joy that filled her soul like a balloon filling up with air. She swung her legs out of bed determined to get up and join the rest of her family.

“Sassenach?”

Jamie’s head poked around the door and Claire looked up at him, still lost in her warm thoughts about her sweet and gentle husband.

“Keep your arse in that bed. I’ll bring ye soup later and if ye dinna eat it, I’ll be shoving my cold fingers down your shift again.”

Claire lay back and sighed. She wouldn’t wish to have him any other way.


	16. Snow, Snow, Snow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee fic set within my AU during Claire's pregnancy with Robbie. Thank you for reading xxx

Snow glittered beneath the cool winter sun, still and fluffy along tree branches, only occasionally disturbed by the landing of birds brave enough to leave their nests. From the rear of the house Claire could hear the happy shrieks and chatter of wee Ian and Brianna as they chased each other around their newly laid winter wonderland. Over the din of the children, Jenny could be heard issuing warnings about catching chills and colds and threatening all but fire and brimstone if one of those ‘daft wee snowball things’ should hit either her or her hens. 

Claire smiled to herself and sat up, stretching her back. She had been huddled in her surgery writing down lists of her most frequently requested concoctions to hand out to those at Lallybroch who could read and follow basic instruction – which was most of the families settled there. Her fingers were spattered with ink and beginning to cramp in the chill of the little room. It was time for a break. 

A swift fist to the bladder as she stood reminded her that someone else was due to get some exercise too.   
“Alright, I know you must have been as bored as I am.”

She smiled, stroking her hand over the swell of her belly. She was around 7 months gone and despite a wonderful lack of morning sickness, cramps or any of the other unpleasantness that had accompanied her first two pregnancies, Jamie had taken to watching her like a hawk and deemed any activity more strenuous than raising a teacup to her lips, out of the question!

Claire understood his worries and at first his protectiveness had been endearing but as more and more activities were deemed ‘too laborious’ by her husband, Claire had begun to feel rather too coddled for her liking and he had taken to speaking to her in a manner that he had not since the very first days of their marriage. This morning had been one such example.  
*

“I ken ye well enough Sassenach. If I let ye, ye’d still be romping around the Highlands wi’out a care in the world!”  
Jamie had lectured as he ushered her into the surgery. 

“I do not ‘romp’ and walking into the village to stretch my legs is hardly the strenuous Highland trek you make it out to be!”  
She had retorted only to be met with a broad grin and kiss on her frown-wrinkled forehead 

“Aye, but tending to every need and whim o’ the people there is strenuous. Now, sit here and do the wee medical cards ye spoke of last night and I’ll collect ye at lunch for a walk.”

“Jamie! I’m not five!”

“No, ye are old enough to ken wi’out coercion that ye need to rest. But seeing as ye are also as hard headed as a goat, let your husband coerce ye and do as I ask. Please.”

The ‘please’ was added as a distinct afterthought and no doubt in response to the angry clenching of her jaw, but Claire did have to admit that there was a certain truth to what Jamie said, despite the patronising way he said it. Also, she did want to get the instructions written out and when it came to handling James Fraser, Claire had learned many years ago that it was best to pick ones battles wisely.

“Fine, but you will not ‘collect me’. I will be going for a walk after lunch and you are welcome to accompany me if you wish. And where are my walking boots?”  
She had snapped and accepted the warm kiss placed at the corner of her mouth with as much good grace as she could muster. 

“Dinna fash over the boots, ye dinna need them if ye are not going a long distance and ye willna be but I should like to accompany ye, verra much. The pleasure of taking a walk wi’ a woman as beautiful and wise as yourself is a rare fine thing indeed.”

Jamie’s eyes had offered an innocently earnest azure gaze that had cracked the shell of her irritation and Claire had found herself smiling again, even as she huffed over to her writing desk.  
*

However the majority of the cards were now written and Claire wanted to feel the frosty air against her skin and the touch of snow beneath her fingertips. She looked around her make-shift prison -complete with chamber pot for Heaven’s sake! As if she couldn’t possibly manage to make it out of the room if she needed to relieve herself – and determined to break out. Patting her bump gently, Claire seized the door handle.

“Come on, you and I are going in search of liberty – boots or no boots!”

*

“Mama!”   
Bree dashed excitedly over to her mother as Claire stepped out into the snow, closely followed by Ian. Both children were flushed with exertion, hair plastered to their foreheads with a mixture of sweat and melted snow. Ian in particular, with his gentle face and large brown eyes, looked like a tawny owl that had been caught in a sudden drift. 

“Are you going to play?”  
Bree asked, her smile wide and devilish and looking more like her father than ever. 

“No, I don’t think I’m quite up to running around dodging snow balls however …”  
Claire pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows as she moved her hands from behind her back to reveal a thriftily pinched baking tray. Brianna clapped her hands delightedly, but Ian looked perplexed.

“Do ye need help in the kitchen Aunty Claire?”

“No Ian, this …”  
Claire said with a theatrical flourish  
“…is for sledding.”

*

The walk up the nearest hill was bracing but not too strenuous and Bree and Ian were more than happy to run ahead and occasionally turn back to wave, giving Claire plenty of time to enjoy the walk and clear the fuzzy feeling that had settled over her in the surgery. She missed being outside in her garden and was longing for both the arrival of the baby and Spring in equal measure. 

Jamie had constructed a baby basket for her so that she would be able to take him or her outside and tend to the herb garden when the weather was fine. Thinking of Jamie, Claire looked guiltily back over her shoulder toward the house. She knew that all of his fussing came from a good place, his concern for her wellbeing and the wellbeing of their unborn child was completely understandable. At eight years old he had lost his own mother during a traumatic birth that claimed not only her life, but the life of his baby brother as well. Then in France … Claire bit back the memory of their first baby, dear little Faith. Yes. Claire could well understand Jamie’s concern and later, she would talk to him properly and try to calm his fear rather than getting cross with him. 

“MAMA!”   
Bree was brandishing the baking tray above her head as if it were a squat, blunt claymore and looked every inch the fierce highland warrior. 

“Wait! Hold on, I need to get out of the way!”  
Claire laughed and hitched up her skirts, adding a bit of urgency to her stride. She got to the top, panting and sweat slicked but despite her burning lungs Claire felt elated! After weeks of gentle and serene movement, a scramble up a snowy slope had been a welcome challenge. 

“Right, who’s going first?”

“ME!”  
With characteristic bossiness, Brianna put the baking tray down and clambered on, not waiting for any protest from Ian.

“Alright, tuck your knees in … ready? … GO!”  
Claire gave the back of the tray a nudge with her foot and Brianna whizzed down the slope with a shriek of absolute joy. By the time she had run back up with the tray, Ian was nearly beside himself with impatience for his own turn.

“How did ye go sae fast?”  
He demanded as soon as Brianna got within shouting distance

“Just keep your feet tucked onto the metal and don’t fall off!”  
She grinned, handing him the tray. Ian gingerly set it in the same place as Brianna had and looked at Claire for confirmation.

“That’s right, hang on …”   
Claire put her boot on the back of the tray and kept it steady whilst Ian settled himself. 

“Dinna fash Aunty Claire I can do it.”  
He smiled, daintily tucking the edges of his scarf into his shirt, before looking up at Claire a little sheepishly  
“Ah … Aunty, did Mam say as that we could use this?”

“Don’t worry,”  
Claire smiled, placing a quick kiss on the crown of his head  
“I’ll take full responsibility Ian. Just have fun!”

The boy nodded happily and took a deep breath  
“Alright, I’m ready.”

Claire gave him the same nudge as she had and just like Brianna, he shot down the slope with a startled ‘Whoo!’ which quickly turned to giddy laughter.

“That was brilliant! Och! Jamie and Michael wi’ never believe how fast ye can go on this!”  
He thrilled, handing the tray back to Brianna. 

Claire smiled across at the two of them, more than happy to leave them to their game now that they had both got the hang of it and decided to head back to the house. She watched Bree shoot down the slope again and stood beside Ian waiting for her to run back up. As Bree handed over to Ian, Claire straightened the girls scarf 

“Bree, I’m going to …”

“CLAIRE!”  
The shout startled all three of them and Ian instinctively jumped up and put the tray behind his back. Jamie stalked up the slope, a grimly determined look on his face and Claire sighed.

“Bugger.”

“What’s wrong, Mama?”  
Bree looked between her advancing father and her mother and frowned

“Nothing, darling. You both go ahead.”  
Claire urged but Bree made no move to leave her side and even Ian stepped closer to her side, a silent support. Jamie crested the hill moments later, his skin pale and eyes flashing daggers at his wife.

“Claire, what in God’s name are ye doing out here?”

“I needed to get some fresh air.”

“Weel ye certainly have it up here! This wind is fit to freeze a mans …”

Seemingly noticing Ian and Brianna for the first time, Jamie stopped and folded his arms.

“What are ye doing?”  
He asked again and Ian held out the baking tray, causing one ruddy eyebrow to raise in question. Claire saw the skin above his collar beginning to blush, and she knew that it was not from the exertion of the walk.

“We’ve been sledding Da!”

Bree answered before Claire could say anything. Jamie switched his gaze to his daughter and whilst Claire could not say it exactly melted, it did soften.

“And what exactly is that a leannan?”

“I’ll show you!”   
Bree beamed brightly at him and Claire had to admire the mastery with which her daughter seemed able to handle her father. Skipping forward and taking his hand, Bree towed Jamie to the edge and took the tray from Ian.

“Like this Da.”  
She smiled again and nudging herself forward, took off at lightning speed. Jamie watched her for a split second and then turned to Claire with a horrified expression on his face that made her take a step back.

“Ye’ve been doing that? Wi’ the bairn and no a care about it?”

“No I …”

“Because I can tell ye now Claire, vow or no, if ye have been fool enough to risk … Why can ye never do as I tell ye? Of all the notions to get in ye head …”

Claire had once seen Jenny grab her brother by the balls to bring him out of a building rage and a similar shock was needed now but without moving herself closer than she fancied being to Jamie, his testicles were safely out of her reach. So she did next thing she could think of.

The snowball, lightly packed and soft, hit Jamie in the forehead before his eyes had fully registered what he was watching his wife do. Ian let out a startled laugh and quickly retreated down the slope to warn Brianna that they were better off down there for a moment. Blinking snow out of his eyes, Jamie slowly turned his head back to her, lips pressed tightly together.

“Before you say anything else, I want you to know that I have absolutely NOT been sledding down the hill. Bree and Ian have been enjoying themselves with that and I have simply been enjoying being outside.” 

Claire’s words rushed together as she hurried to explain herself

“and I am sorry for throwing snow at you, but I couldn’t see how else to make you listen for a moment without losing your temper, although I suppose now a loss of temper would be a very reasonable reaction.”

Jamie blinked again and when he didn’t say anything Claire continued

“I needed to get outside Jamie. I know I am pregnant and I know you are frightened about what might happen but I promise you, a walk is not going to harm either me or this baby. However being bloody cooped up and unhappy could. I just went for a walk with the children and watched them play.” 

She stopped and spread her hands with a gesture of helplessness and waited for the reaction. 

“Ye didna leave word as to where ye had gone.”  
Jamie said finally, his face impassive and voice studiously neutral.

“I know and I should have. But you can see the house from here, I wasn’t far.”

“I should have listened to ye when ye said ye wished to go out. I dinna mean for ye to feel trapped but the bairn is nearly as far along as Faith and … I just want ye safe Claire. Both of ye.”

“We are!”  
Claire insisted and stepped forward, bridging the gap between them and dusting the snow from his shoulders.   
“We’re safe and we’re well. I am sorry I worried you though.”

“Mmmphmm.”  
Jamie grunted, a noise that managed to encapsulate a faint accusation as well as acknowledgement of the peace offering.

“Aye, weel. I didna mean to raise my voice to ye, there was no need for that.”

“It’s fine.”  
Claire smiled slightly and Jamie’s own lip quirked up in answer. The quarrel was over between them. Jamie drew her to his side, gently placing his right hand over the swell of her belly, his smile widening to a grin as the baby pushed against his hand.

“Ye’ve a good aim on ye, Sassenach.”  
Jamie said, shooting her a sidelong glance and Claire blushed slightly

“Yes, well. I am sorry for that but you were building yourself up to a full throttle temper.”

“I would never throttle ye, mo chridhe, as much as ye may tempt me at times! But if ye throw snow at me again, I shall have to wake ye wi’ an arse-crack full of the stuff in the morning.”

Claire laughed and turned her face up to receive the kiss he placed on her lips, his smile mingling with her own.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“It may be in your interests no’ to find out.”  
Jamie teased, letting his other hand settle on the threatened area of Claire’s anatomy, squeezing firmly as she swatted him away and beckoned to the children.

“Do ye want a go Uncle Jamie?”  
Ian asked tentatively as he reached the top of the hill and Jamie snorted in response

“I dinna think my arse would fit, lad.”

“You’d be fine Da! There’s loads of room!”

Bree beamed and as usual when Bree wished him to do something, Jamie allowed himself to be coaxed until he found himself gingerly seated on the soggy, cold metal tray, his heels pressed up against his backside, feeling decidedly foolish. 

“Are ye sure I willna break it?”

“You won’t! Honestly Da, it’s so much fun!”

Bree and Ian both had their feet on the back of it to stop is slipping out, but with Jamie’s full weight on board, gravity was winning.  
“Are you ready?”

Jamie looked over his shoulder at Claire who waved cheerily back at him

“Je Suis Prest, hmmm?”  
Jamie narrowed his eyes at her but nodded all the same

“Aye, I’m ready.”

Bree and Ian leapt back and Jamie’s decent down the slope made their previous attempts look positively slow! 

“You did it!”  
Bree yelled, hands cupped around her mouth as Jamie ran back up 

“Aye and ye were right, it is fun! Where did ye learn such a trick?”  
Jamie grinned, handing the sheet to Ian and stepping back behind his daughter, waiting for another turn.

“Mama showed me when I was little, neat huh?”

“Very.”  
Jamie nodded and smiled at Claire over his shoulder  
“Your mother is a wonder, is she no?”

“She is!”  
Bree agreed happily. 

*  
A little while later the four of them; exhausted, exhilarated and hungry made their way back to the house for lunch and whilst Claire and Jenny served, Jamie excused himself and removed the chamber pot from Claire’s surgery and stuffed it back in the closet where it belonged and retrieved her proper walking boots, placing them neatly beside her desk.


	17. More Snow!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With my heartfelt thanks to @MSLM and @Hallee87 and @Azura for suggesting I continue the story from the last chapter. Normally my AU works in loose one-shots but actually this is pretty fun and I really appreciate all the support I have received.  
> This chapter focuses more on Ian and Jamie as I never feel we get enough of those two together :)  
> Thank you all! xxx

Jamie ran ahead with the children whilst Ian snr walked slowly beside Claire. The snow was treacherous with his wooden leg and the two of them were acting as mutual supports, laughing as they pitched and rolled over the frosty earth.   
Claire lost her footing once and with more strength than she knew he had, Ian caught and righted her before she had even finished the skid. 

“Alright, then?”  
He asked, his eyes soft and warm, the colour of roasted chestnuts as they continued their gentle pace. 

“Yes, thank you. Sorry. I feel like I’m in a state of permanent clumsiness at the moment!”  
Claire laughed, smoothing her hands over the swell of her stomach. 

“Ah, ye’ve more grace than ye ken, lass. Jenny was the same. Always said she felt like a cloud, swelling to burst wi’ rain and hanging low and ugly over the valley and I never could make her see that she was more like the sun which peeps out from behind such a cloud. She was radiant, just like you.”  
Ian’s eyes crinkled at the edges as his smile widened, thinking of his wife.

“Do you think she’ll join us later?”  
Claire asked, nodding toward the slope which the others were already clambering up. 

“Ach! Ye ken Jenny. She’ll huff and puff about wasting time and broken limbs and then curiosity will get the better of her, but only if no one tries to chivvy her along.”   
Ian chuckled and Claire smiled into the fabric of her scarf. She had always felt close to Ian and their shared experience of managing the Fraser’s only enhanced that sense of kinship.   
*  
By the time Ian and Claire reached the top, Jamie, Bree and wee Ian were already flushed with excitement and looking a little wild with it. Ian bounded up to his father as soon as he and Claire came into view.

“DA! Will ye watch me?”

“Aye, go ahead. Let me see what all the fuss is about!”  
Ian smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. Wee Ian looked ready to burst with eager pride as he settled himself on the make-shift sled and checked twice to make sure his father was paying proper attention before casting off.

“Christ! … ah … excuse me Claire, Brianna.”  
Ian snr laughed, bowing apologetically to both of them, shocked at the speed and graceful decent that a wee sheet of metal could produce. 

“Do ye want to try it?”  
Jamie asked, nudging his friend good naturedly with his elbow. Ian pressed his lips firmly together as if in thought but slowly shook his head. 

“Och, I dinna ken that I’d have the balance for it wi’ my leg.”  
Ian muttered but his eyes never left his son, now running back up to them and Jamie could see just how badly his friend wanted to try it. Quite often people remarked that wee Ian must get his lust for wild escapades from his mother’s side but Jamie knew better. Ian had been bold to the point of recklessness as a younger man and Jamie had been privately saddened to see how reserved he had become in the years since the accident in France that cost him the bottom half of his right leg. It wasn’t that Ian was less of a man, he wasn’t, but he was less adventurous. 

“Go on Uncle Ian! It’s easy!”  
Bree urged, but Jamie shushed her and shook his head discreetly and sensing that she ought to let the matter drop, she turned her attention back to her cousin, scooping a handful of snow and lying in wait for him to come into view. The resulting shrieks and volley of snowballs had everyone laughing and ducking for cover and teams were quickly devised, the sledding temporarily forgotten.

Murray vs Fraser, although after a quick discussion Claire was invited to be an honorary Murray and gladly accepted. It was decided, by Brianna, that the Murray team should have the high ground in deference to Claire’s pregnant state and Ian’s leg. It was a noble gesture and Ian snr had nodded gravely at Brianna’s suggestion but Jamie noticed the mischievous glint in his eye and his heart leapt at the thought of an actual challenge from his friend. 

Wee Ian had seldom seen his father so animated and openly in control, his Da normally deferred to his Mam or made his point quietly and patiently but this was different. As soon as Jamie led Brianna off, Ian gathered his troops to him and laid out the plan. Claire was to prepare the ammunition and wee Ian was to be the distraction by firing wildly from the top and focus his attention on Brianna as Jamie would likely stay with her, leaving them open for Ian snr to flank them and box them in from the rear. 

“Claire, ye are our secret weapon! Throw from the back, behind wee Ian so they think it is me.”

The plan was set and battle lines drawn, Clan Murray was ready.  
*  
Jamie lay flat on his belly in the snow and Bree burrowed down beside him, cackling with devilish joy at the rough and tumble, her teeth chattering with cold even as her hands continued to mould balls out of the soft snow, lining them up alongside those made by her father. She had been at Lallybroch for more than half a year and in that time she had played many games with her father as they got to know each other, but he tended to steer her towards games like chess or checkers or sometimes racing on horseback if she managed to persuade him. This was the first time that she had been able to indulge in some proper play with him and she was enjoying herself immensely. It was great fun to hare about with her Da and plot together in the snow, it felt wild and free and exhilarating – even if she still had to wear a dress because Aunt Jenny had confiscated her latest pair of breeks.

“Are ye clear on the plan?”

“Aye Da. I distract them whilst you sneak round and surprise them.”

“That’s right. Now, watch out for ye Uncle, he’s an aim like the Devil himself and can throw a fair distance further than most.”

“It’s only snowballs Da!”  
Bree grinned and Jamie feigned seriousness as he raised his eyebrows

“And that coming from ye; the War Chieftain of Clan Fraser! I dinna ken where ye think ye are, but this is a battle and a matter of some import! We are no just here for victory, this is about the honour of our clan!”

Bree tried to smother her smile and match her father’s serious expression but couldn’t supress her laughter and buried her face in his shoulder, snorting.

“Yes Sir! Chief Fraser, Sir! Je Suis Prest!”

She giggled and Jamie gave her a small salute and a kiss on the forehead before beginning to make his way around the hill. Battle had commenced.  
*

Ian snr moved almost without thinking, his wooden leg which had felt like such a hindrance making his way from the house, now moved perfectly in tandem with his good leg and pierced the snow seemingly with no greater peril than his booted foot.  
His lungs were scorched with cold and his eyes were watering but he was having the time of his life and felt like a wee lad again. He grinned to himself thinking of what Jenny would say if she could see him scrabbling around in the wet and cold, sliding down on his arse when the way was too steep and generally acting like a daft fool.

He could hear wee Ian and Bree and occasionally Claire, shrieking and shouting threats and dares to each other but Jamie’s voice was mysteriously absent. Realisation dawned on Ian and his eyes flared wide, Jamie had had the same idea! 

“Och! Ye treacherous wee bugger!”  
He laughed and looked around frantically for a place to hide, Jamie would be coming round any second now and the element of surprise was all Ian could count on. He made a dash across the slope and leapt behind a clump of bush … and tripped full on over a very large, red-headed assailant.  
*

The sound of men’s laughter and a mixture of good natured oaths in Gaelic were loud enough to draw the attention of the winter warriors on the hill top. Claire called for a ceasefire and they hurried to look down the south side of the hill at the commotion below.  
Ian’s wooden leg was lying to one side and both men were scrambling around on hands and knees, half-blinded with laughter, throwing clumps of snow at each other. Jamie’s hair was clumped with snowflakes and had tumbled loose down his back in fiery tendrils against the muted navy of his coat. Ian’s hair, which had been clubbed by Jenny, had stayed firmly in place but he looked no less dishevelled for it.

“Your … your leg … Ian …”  
Jamie was doubled up with laughter, hiccoughing and gasping for breath. 

“I dinna ken … ken why … ye’re laughing. It was stepping on your fat …fat arse that knocked it off!”  
Ian choked and Jamie came undone again. He gave up on the attack and flopped face down into the snow, quivering with hilarity as it drained from his body in snorts and huffs. Ian sat back and tipped his face up to the sky, breathing heavily and grinning like a loon. Claire didn’t think she had ever seen him looking so young. 

“Truce?”

“Aye, truce.”  
Jamie sat up wiping his eyes on his sleeve and handed Ian his leg before helping him up. Arms slung around each other’s shoulders, both men began limping up the hill.

“Who won?”  
Brianna asked and Claire wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling

“Your Uncle Ian did. Definitely.”  
*


	18. Hogmanay pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So I have been doing some Spring Cleaning of my AU because it has spiralled a little out of control. A few chapters of this fic have been moved into a new thread called 'Tales of Brianna' because really they do little to feed into the central story and are really just one shots prompted by some lovely asks and some of my own random thoughts. 
> 
> Anyway I really hate to mess you about and to say sorry I have part one of an extended piece which is going to be pure Fraser loveliness! I hope you enjoy it, here is pt. 1 of Hogmanay.

Bree had been disappointed by Christmas. She wouldn’t admit it to Mama or Da but the lack of a tree or proper presents and carol singers had been quite disheartening. Mama had done her best and they had built a snowman in the afternoon which was fun, but that was about the only tradition from Boston that Bree had been able to observe.

Da had gifted her a little knife with an ivory handle that had her initials carved into it B.E.R.F and Bree had been pleased that he hadn’t left out the ‘R’ because she was feeling homesick and wondering what exactly Daddy was doing and whether he was alone or maybe with a new family. She didn’t know which thought made her feel worse.   
Mama had wrapped up a new pair of breeks, folded playfully within a dress that Aunt Jenny had made and also a box of paints that made Uncle Ian raise his eyebrows – no doubt at at the extravagance. 

She knew that she had received more than her cousins which only increased her guilt at feeling longing for the extravagant Christmas’ of the twentieth century and after supper Bree had excused herself and gone to bed early. 

The next day had been better. Winter at Lallybroch was like something straight off a Christmas card. Fresh blankets of white snow every morning, smoke curling from the chimney, dark against the bright winter sky and she spent playing or hunting with Ian when they were released from their chores. 

She wasn’t allowed to take her knife out with her, Mama had pretty much confiscated it the moment Da’s back was turned and assured Bree that she’d keep it safe before slipping a shilling into her hand – a bribe that Bree wished she hadn’t taken but at the time had been too wrapped up in feeling blue to think about. However Ian had a new bow and a set of arrows and he was allowed to take them out hunting whenever he pleased, which was also good news for Brianna as it meant she effectively inherited his old bow, now slightly too short for Ian but still pretty much alright for her, currently lagging one growth spurt behind him. 

When Ian and Bree had asked Jenny where it had been put, Jenny had narrowed her eyes and said   
“It has been put away. The two of ye ken well enough that Claire doesna want for Bree to learn how to use weapons yet.”

But then, after considering them both for a moment, she had sighed and picked up a foot stall, handing it to Ian with stern expression on her face

“Also I dinna wish either of ye to be pokin’ around on top o’ the wardrobe in Michael’s room, ken?”

After she had marched back to the kitchen Ian had grinned at Bree and nudged her in the ribs.

“Sometimes ye can really tell that Mam and Uncle Jamie are related, eh?”  
*

On the fourth day, December 29th, Bree woke up, dressed in her favourite shirt and breeks and fetched her newly acquired bow from beneath her bed and walked downstairs into beautiful chaos.   
Garlands of holly and thyme adorned the doorwars and thick boughs of juniper were stacked by the main entrance, stripped of their berries which were in a bowl beside them. Candles had been stationed on every available surface. The sound of fabric being struck over and over again came from outside and heedless of her contraband slung up on her shoulder, Bree padded out into the courtyard. 

Jamie and Ian were beating rugs that had been draped over the washing line, both their faces shining with sweat despite the chill. 

“What’s going on?”  
Bree asked, wrapping her arms around herself shivering.

“Good morning, a leannan!”  
Jamie wiped his brow and smiled at her

“Why is everything so … festive?”

“Hogmanay!”

Ian called cheerfully, swinging the carpet beater viciously at the rug and then stepping back to survey his work.

“Do ye think it’ll do Jamie?”

Jamie stepped around to Ian’s side and cocked his head

“Aye it’ll do if ye mean to have Jenny chase ye about the house wi’ this thing after ye give it back!”

Flicking the beater in Ian’s hand he gestured to a patch of dust on the higher right corner

“Look at that there!”

Ian clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes

“Fussy as an auld maid ye are. A patch of dust isna goin’ to offend any of our visitors.”

“It’s no’ the visitors who will be inspecting it.”

Jamie sniffed and nodded toward the house. Ian grimaced 

“Last year I had the lads do this. I should ha’ done so this year too.”

Bree frowned at her father and uncle and shuffled her feet, wiggling her toes against the chill of being outdoors. 

“What’s Hogmanay, Da?”

“It’s the celebration of welcoming the new year coming in and bidding the old farewell.”  
Jamie said, his own rug now met his fastidious expectations, began carefully rolling it up before hefting it onto his shoulder and walking towards her. 

“OH! Like New Year! With fireworks and champagne?”  
Bree clapped her hands delightedly, the cold forgotten.

“Ah weel, no, I dinna have fireworks and I dinna think ye Aunty has any champagne here but there will be dancing and a fine feast and a bonfire too with guests and food and more to drink than is good for anyone so we’ll need to watch ye Mam.”

Jamie grinned, stepping into the house Bree following faithfully at his heels.

“So what happens at midnight?”

“Eh? Well that my lass is the first footing. A tall and dark man must enter the house barin’ gifts for good luck!”

Jamie deposited the rug in the hallway and turned to her, hands on his hips

“Now there is a wee discussion about this and I should care most greatly for your opinion.”

“Dinna be hounding the lass about this Jamie!”

Jenny admonished bustling between them as if by magic and inspecting the rug before glancing up at Bree.

“Your father has a bee in his bonnet about the First Foot. Pay him no heed. Your Uncle either. As bad as a couple of weans wi' a new bauble to share."

Jenny paused and pursed her lips at her niece 

"And you’ve as much sense as either of them, walking around wi’ that on ye shoulder for the world to see.”

Bree glanced to her left and blushed, snatching the bow from her arm and quickly hiding it behind her back, a completely useless gesture but one that she felt the need to make anyway. She looked up guiltily at her Da but Jamie had that small smile on his lips that Mama called his ‘Proud Father’ smile.

“How are ye getting on wi’ it?”

“Not too bad, not brilliantly though.”

Bree smiled shyly back at him. She liked the idea of having small secrets between her and each of her parents. It was nice to feel close to them individually because they formed such a tight unit together that sometimes she could feel a little left out – after all she had been the centre of the world in Boston, the linchpin that kept her family together and she sensed it, even if she could not put it into words.

She had secrets with Mama already, little jokes about the future world and small things that Da would disapprove of like sharing a sweet before dinner or staying up past bedtime to read. Now she had a secret with Da too, learning to use a bow and arrow. 

“I’ll show ye a couple of things after lunch but for now, hide it away wherever ye keep it, aye?”

Bree nodded and hurried up the stairs oblivious to the slender black eyebrow aunt Jenny raised at Jamie.

“What?”  
He asked defensively but Jenny only smiled good-naturedly at him

“She has ye around her pinky, Jamie”

“Pah!  
Jamie feigned haughtiness and strode past her but not before Jenny saw the faint pink blush of happiness that touched his cheekbone.

Jenny shook her head and sighed contentedly – it was time for bringing in the new year and with it a breath of joy that the dear old house had long needed. It was Hogmanay.


	19. Hogmanay pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee snippet of Jamie and Claire as the Hogmanay preparations are well under-way.

Claire could hear the children chattering amongst themselves as they bunched the juniper and picked off any berries that had been missed, Bree’s accent standing out starkly amongst her cousin’s softer Scottish brogues.

The pot Jenny had left beside her was nearly full with pealed potatoes and the water on the stove had reached boiling. The room was becoming uncomfortably hot and Claire could feel the sweat gathering beneath the cloud of hair at the nape of her neck and trickling intermittently down her neck. She placed a hand against her back, readying for the task of standing upright.

“Alright little one, on three … one … two …”

Claire clenched her teeth and heaved just as the baby pushed a foot up under her ribs. The air went from her in a sharp breath and Claire sat down heavily, giving up on the two inches of elevation she had gained.

“You bloody little … Scot!”

She scowled, arching her back a little to encourage the baby to move, which it obligingly did, coming to rest in a much less uncomfortable position. Claire let her breath out again, this time with a sigh and passed the back of her hand over her brow. She had a few more weeks to go but felt like she was ready to burst. She didn’t remember feeling quite so huge with Brianna, though that may have been in part due to the near starvation she had suffered in the run up to Culloden and then the miserable cocoon she had wrapped herself in after her return to the twentieth century, a cocoon in which she only forced herself to take food for the sake of the baby.

Claire pushed thoughts of that time aside and steeled herself to stand once again. If she simply sat and waited for Jenny to come to her rescue she could be stuck in the sweltering kitchen for quite some time as the Hogmanay preparations were well underway and Jenny was bustling from room to room overseeing it all. Claire had tried to help but her swollen size had made her something of a hindrance to the process and when she had suggested preparing the vegetables instead of stringing garlands, Jenny had looked rather relieved. However, if preparing vegetables was what Claire was in charge of then she would bloody well be in charge of it and no one was going to put those potatoes in the cauldron but her!

She was half-way up when she felt a hand on her lower back and another take a gentle grip on her upper arm. She blew the hair out of her face and looked up into an amused sapphire gaze.

“I can manage.”

“I know.”

Jamie smiled but didn’t relinquish his touch and moments later Claire was on her feet. She raised her finger to wipe the perspiration from her upper lip but Jamie stopped her, catching her hand in his and ducking his head to gently kiss along the bow of her lips, his tongue gently tracing the curve of her smile.

“Ah Dhia! Mo nigheann donn, mo Sorcha …”

Claire lost the last of his words as he buried his face in the curve of her neck

“What was that?”

“I said …”

Jamie surfaced, smiling with the glazed eyes of a man singularly minded,

“That each time I sniff at ye I discover a new wee scent and I want ye more than before.”

Claire sniffed at her sleeve and wrinkled her nose

“I never considered onions and parsnips to be particular aphrodisiacs.”

Jamie’s lifted one springy curl from her collar bone, pulling it gently straight before letting it bounce back into its spiral and inhaling dramatically.

“I can smell cloves, rosemary and a wee hint o’ plum.”

Claire leant forward and sniffed his shirt lightly

“Horses and hay and … what is that?”

“Peat most likely.”

Jamie grinned and waved away the question before Claire could ask it.

“I brought a few blocks in from the shed this morning and changed my shirt but ye ken how the scent clings.”

Jamie lifted the pot of potatoes from the table

“Ye want these in the water?”

“Ye but give them here, I’ll do it.”

Claire reached for the pan but Jamie shifted, keeping it out of her reach

“It’s fairly heavy Sassenach. I dinna ken how many pounds ye peeled but if Jenny is still feeding the pigs peelings, we’re likely to have the fattest hogs in the Highlands.”

“We’re going to have a lot of guests…”

“And food enough to feed generations of them yet to come.”

Jamie grinned and crossed to the fire

“Wait I can …”

Claire began and then stopped as Jamie upended the pan with ease and deftly stepping out of the way of the water that splashed over the sides as the potatoes went in.

“I told you I could do it!”

Claire snapped, feeling absurdly like she was about to cry. She blinked twice and glared at the splashes of water steaming on the flagstones.

“For God’s sake, Jamie! You’ve got water all over the floor! I suppose I have to clear it up, do I?”

She snatched a cloth up from the side and stormed toward the small pool of water but Jamie blocked her path, expression carefully neutral as his hands came up to lightly clasp her shoulders.

“I apologise Sassenach. If ye hand me the cloth, I’ll mop it up for ye.”

His voice was gentle, consoling even and Claire felt the tightness in her chest clench and her throat began to burn. Claire looked around him and saw the gentle wisps of steam rising from the floor a second before her vision blurred.

“No it’s fine … It’s already drying. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Dinna be lass, I interfered and upset the system you had in place. I’m sorry for it.”

Claire snorted wetly and hastily mopped her eyes and nose with a handkerchief.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so irritable!”

“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with ye, but ye are exhausted and your body feels like it’s betrayin’ ye at every turn. It’s enough to make anyone irritable.”

Jamie’s arms encircled her as he spoke, his cheek resting lightly on the top of her head

“I feel like a fat, silly fool!”

“You are magnificent, Claire.”

Jamie spoke simply, rubbing small circles in the middle of her back

“But upon my word, Sassenach, the smell of ye and the feel of ye against me is makin’ me think verra wicked thoughts.”

“Perhaps you should confess them to me upstairs.”

She murmured and felt the shiver of a thrill run through him

“Confession, eh? Will ye forgive my sins?”

“Eventually.”

Claire allowed the word to fall from her lips and the considerable firmness that has been building against her stomach hardened further.

“Can ye get one of the girls to mind the food a while? I dinna think I can wait for your benediction.”

Jamie whispered in her ear and as he bent toward her Claire imagined a willow tree, tall and graceful, arching as its branches dip toward the water’s surface, reaching until even the petioles and stipules are submerged deeply.

*

It felt like hours but could only have been minutes later, as Claire ran her fingers through the sweetly curling hairs of his chest, she realised that Jamie had done what she could not do for herself, he had centred her.

He had let her play the role of the saviour, dubbing himself the wicked one who was dependent on her for his redemption. He had made her feel wise and beautiful and in control, he had guided her to see herself as he saw her.

“What are ye thinking, Sassenach?”

His voice was heavy with satisfaction and Claire delighted in the small sigh of contentment he gave as she kissed the bud of his nipple.

“I was thinking that you still, after all our years, just let me be myself and how much I love you for it.”

She smiled and looked up as she felt the bed shift to see him propped up on his elbow, looking down at her curiously.

“I fell in love wi’ ye for who ye are Sassenach. I canna see what benefit it could be to either of us if I were to try and change ye now.”

“You might have a wife with a sweeter temperament?”

She teased, stroking the length of his nose with the tip of her index finger.

“I doubt a sweet wee mouse could make my balls fizz the way you do.”

Jamie’s tone was even and as he blinked solemnly at her, his face serene, Claire burst into laughter and laughed until the tears streamed down her face and her ribs ached with the force of it.

“Oh my God! Jamie! I did not expect that!”

“Well neither did I, a sweet wee lad o’ three and twenty and you and older woman takin’ me in hand…”

He was grinning too now, his mirth held back only barely

“It was my mouth actually…”

Claire retorted and the room filled with the sounds of their happiness, of memories and shared knowledge of love and the comfort of one who knows you so very well and they clung to each other until the last of the humour left them when, still smiling, they touched their foreheads together.

“In truth Sassenach, I dinna care what ye do to my balls as long as I get to hear ye laugh like that often and plenty until my dying day.”

Jamie raised her hand, clasped in his own between them on the bed and kissed her skin, just above the warm silver of her wedding ring.


	20. Hogmanay pt.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 sees Jamie and Bree collecting water for the Sian - a blessing that is carried out in the morning of Hogmanay with water, traditionally from the river. The story Jamie tells Bree is of my own creating so any inaccuracies about folklore are my own fault, but the premise of the tale is rooted in Celtic faerie stories. Thank you for reading as ever, let me know what you think or any questions you have :) Han xx

Brianna was always eager for any chance to ride one of the Lallybroch horses so when her father had requested her company fetching some sort of special water, she had been only too pleased to go with him. Especially as she had heard him laughing with Mama in their room and knew that if he was in a particularly good mood he would almost certainly let her urge Aoileann to a gallop across the meadow which led to the river.

However as the horses made their way into the woods Bree felt a calm descend over her and no longer wanted to gallop furiously toward their destination. She was happy listening to her father point out which birds made which call and asking him questions about the woods. The air was cold and crisp and everything seems to be tinged with a faint blue light as the afternoon bowed gracefully toward evening and their shadows began to lengthen across the frosty ground.

“What makes the water we’re fetching so special, Da?”

“It is the source we are collecting it from. Your Aunty will have told ye of the ‘saining’ or Sian, aye?”

Jamie gave her a sidelong smile and Bree could tell that there was more to come. She hoped it would be one of his stories, about the Auld Ones or mythical creatures or ghosts that roamed the Celtic isles. Sometimes his stories would absorb her so much that when they were over it would take Bree a while to remember where she was and the best ones made Da’s eyes light up with the telling and his voice would get that deep far away quality as if he was travelling the tale with her for the first time.

“Yes, the blessing of the house and the animals and people to ward off spirits and bring good luck.”

“Aye, and the place we gather the water for the blessing is an ancient river crossing. It is what ye call a living and a dead ford. Have ye heard of such a thing mo chridhe?”

Bree shook her head and grinned at the flash of excitement on her father’s face.

“Ach weel let me tell ye of it.”

Jamie shifted himself in the saddle as if settling in for a long journey and Bree copied his movements faithfully, making sure that she held her head as high as he did.

“Ye’ll maybe no ken this but rivers are the dwelling places of the goddesses of the Auld ones. The waters are their kingdoms and any human that enters their depths must accept the rule of the Auld ones. That is why ye must no’ fight the current should ye ever get too deep, ye must show respect to the goddess by swimming wi’ the pull of the water, allowing her to court ye and release ye at her will.”

Jamie’s voice was softer than usual, his accent broadening as he spoke and his eyes rested on the path ahead of them as Bree watched him intently.

“The old folk of believed the goddess is the one who decides what the river will do, where it will bend and where it will flood and where the creatures of the land may cross safely to the other side. Before men built bridges to satisfy their own impatience they relied upon the kindness of the river goddess’s to provide them safe passage for whilst the deer was given strong legs to spring across and squirrels given agility that they might leap from branches, man needed to ken humility and so he waited on the river’s pleasure.”

Jamie paused to take a drink from his water pouch and watched out of the corner of his eye as Bree squirmed impatiently. Fighting back a smile, Jamie offered the flask to her but she shook her head

“No thank you, carry on Da … please.”

Jamie nodded and thought for a moment before reigning in and swinging down from his saddle.

“The path ahead is too narrow for both horses. We’ll tether Aoileann here and ride together.”

Bree would normally have pestered to be allowed to ride on but she was far too invested in the story to waste time bartering with her Da. Aoileann was tethered to a nearby oak and Bree settled in the saddle between Jamie’s legs within a couple of minutes and they set off again.

“Where was I?”

“Man had to learn humility…”

Bree prompted and he nodded slowly as if to himself.

“Och, that’s right. Weel, twas not only the living who needed a place to cross. Spirits needed to cross from this world into the next and though they could have chosen a passage between the trees or cliffs or over the sea had they wished it, they chose the rivers for they are the most beautiful of crossings in the Highlands and so the goddess of each river made a special ford, a ford where both living and dead might cross in harmony and go on their way in peace.”

“Wouldn’t the spirits mind sharing their crossing?”

Bree asked curiously and Jamie grinned

“No, their journey in this world is at an end and as they cross into the next, it pleases them to walk alongside a living soul one last time. The spirits who cross at such fords are not the same as the likes of the Wild Hunt.”

Bree shivered at the mention of that particular ghost story. The tale of the Wild Hunt had given her the creeps and made her reluctant to blow out the candle at bedtime for several days after the telling of it. She huddled closer into her Da’s chest now, surreptitiously putting her hand on his sleeve, feeling better for having a grip on him, certain that if anyone could protect her from the less friendly spirits of the woods, it was her Da.

“So where we’re going now, to the living and dead ford, it is a spirit crossing?”

“Aye.”

“How will we know if … well if someone is trying to cross it while we’re there?”

Bree bit her lip; the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of a spirit crossing.

“I doubt ye would feel a thing unless they wanted ye to, but we willna be there long. We will fill up our flasks and be on our way.”

Jamie reassured her as the ford came into view between the sparse trees.

*

Jamie lifted Bree down and handed her a flask, she edged toward the water but kept a tight grip on his hand, blue eyes wide with trepidation. Jamie had seen her look so when she was about to try a food that was new to her or confess to some wee foolishness to her Mam that she wasn’t sure would earn her a scolding or not.

Jamie watched her with a curious mix of pride and awe that he so often felt when his daughter was alone with him and his attention could be devoted solely to her. He had spent many hours; countless hours really, imagining the child he and Claire had created. He had usually, to his shame, imagined a boy sometimes with Claire’s dark curls and other times with his flaming hair. He had imagined the detail of his son’s face, small dimples when he smiled and the high arch of his feet. He had brought to life in his mind the crease of skin at the laddie’s elbows and the high giddy sound of his laugh and yet for all his imagining and dreaming nothing had prepared him for the reality of Brianna.

Jamie found himself enthralled by everything she did, her wee quirks and the thoughts she cared to share with him were treasures that he hoarded greedily and stored against the burden of the years he had lost with her.

In the stories he told her he wove the culture of their people and tried to impart the wisdom that he had received from his own father’s tales. Jamie wanted Brianna to have the world laid at her feet and he would do all he could to place it there, but he also wanted her to understand the soil on which she stood. To know the history of her country, to feel that Scotland was in her bones not just in her heritage and so he told her tall tales of kelpies, faeries and maidens in lochs and he brought her to the places that she might feel the connection most strongly, hiking in the hills and riding through the forests of their home so that whatever the future held, she would always ken that she had a place here at Lallybroch, a door that would never close and a welcome that would never expire.

“Should I just … you know … take it or do I have to say something?”

Bree whispered. Jamie considered her for a moment and then dropped to a crouch, the shallow water lapping over the toes of his boots. He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun

“Ar n-Athair a tha air nèamh, Gu naomhaichear d'ainm. Thigeadh do rìoghachd. Dèanar do thoil air an talamh mar a nìthear air nèamh.”

He wasn’t sure why the Lord ’s Prayer came to his head but he saw no reason why it was any less valid than another offering of respect and the Gaelic seemed to please Brianna, who with a sigh of relief that he seemed to know the right words to appease the river goddess and spirits alike, let go of his hand and dipped her flask into the babbling water, murmuring a shorter verse of prayer that Ian had taught her, eyes tightly closed, claiming what she needed before carefully tightening the lid and handing it over to him.

“Was that alright, Da?”

“Perfect Bree, utterly perfect.”


End file.
